


In the Grip of Grace

by proantagonist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunk Loki, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, M/M, Pining Thor, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, Urban Setting, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 90,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2306279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proantagonist/pseuds/proantagonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki learns the truth of his heritage, he quietly leaves Asgard behind. The search for the lost prince continues for nearly a year until Odin hires a professional tracker to find him, sending Thor along on the hunt to ensure Loki’s safe return. They locate him on Midgard, living on his own in a run down apartment—depressed, weakened, and trying very hard to disappear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [In the Grip of Grace：维子之故](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767103) by [ChenaultGG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChenaultGG/pseuds/ChenaultGG)



> Written for the lovely [sheilatakesabow](http://sheilatakesabow.tumblr.com/) for her birthday. :) She requested Thorki hurt/comfort. Apologies for being late! You are without a doubt one of the sweetest, most thoughtful people in this fandom.
> 
> This story was inspired by [a gifset on tumblr](http://vforvet.tumblr.com/post/36945638243/) that refused to leave my mind months after the fact.

_A crescendo of raised voices disturbed the cool hush of the Vault._

_The light from the guards' torches shone in Loki's eyes as he looked to them in dismay, so overwhelmed with conflicting emotion, he found he could no longer speak. His outstretched hands trembled, his father's fallen body just beneath them yet seeming impossibly out of reach. Untouchable._

_The guards crowded together with Loki and the All-Father at their center, and the light from their torches painted a flickering circle onto the cold stone below. Loki stood and moved to the side to give them room to work, rubbing at his hands as if to wipe something distasteful away, though his skin was clean. A flood of unwelcome information pounded behind his temples, and he was caught somewhere in the middle of wanting to shake and scream at the old king until he awakened or to press his face against the familiar strength of his father's shoulder and pretend nothing had transpired at all. Either reaction made him feel like he was slowly losing hold of his senses._

_It felt good to slip away and retreat into the shadows. To hide. His mind replayed the moment when the whisper of cold from the Casket had transformed him into something horrific. Though his skin was once again its normal tone—or what he had once considered normal, at least—Loki still feared someone might see through whatever enchantment disguised his appearance._

" _My prince," a guard called to him. "Tell us what happened. There was a report of shouting."_

_Tears spilled from Loki's unblinking eyes. He looked to the Casket on its pedestal and remembered the Einherjar who had died in an attempt to protect it from the frost giants—the ones Loki had allowed into Asgard. Now understanding that he himself was Jötunn, what he had once considered a harmless joke now twisted into treason of the highest order. He could lose his head for this. And now he'd driven Asgard's king into the Odinsleep—or something far worse._

_He wasn't certain what frightened him more—that he might be found out or that for centuries, he'd been living in a den of liars more talented than he could ever hope to be._

_When he felt a sharp pain in his chest, he wondered momentarily if it was possible for a heart to literally break. He stepped further back into the shadows. When that did not seem far enough, he used his seiðr to wrap himself in invisibility and quietly disappeared from sight._

* * *

\- One Year Later -

"He's been here, all right. I'd bet my life on it." The tracker turned in a deliberate circle, his profile outlined by the city lights shining through the dirty film of the windows. His quiet laughter filled the small space. "Or perhaps yours."

Thor eyed the man with long-simmering wariness. "My brother has grown up surrounded by wealth and finery. This abode does not seem a likely fit. His tastes would not allow him to live here comfortably."

They stood in an empty apartment positioned high above the Midgardian metropolis known as New York City. Endless souls walked the streets below, and from this height, looked almost like a steadily flowing river. The apartment itself was cramped and cold, like an empty shell in want of a soul to warm it. Thor could cross the main living area in five strides, and only a single chair with a hard, uncomfortable back and no arms served as furniture. There was a kitchenette crammed into one corner, but the cupboards and countertops were empty. The walls were barren, and none of the light switches worked. It took Thor a minute to realize that there wasn't a problem with the wiring; the electricity was simply cut off.

The tracker nudged a loose floorboard with the toe of his boot. "I don't recall suggesting he was comfortable."

"Understand that I have lived for centuries at my brother's side and know his habits well," Thor said with no small amount of heat. "Loki would never step foot in this place, much less live here willingly. My father hired you to find him—not to lead us astray."

"Oh, do forgive me," the tracker said. "I was under the impression that you had failed to locate your brother for months and months after his disappearance, and that perhaps your knowledge of him was not as comprehensive as you might think." A smile spread across his face. "Feel free to leave me to my hunt if you have other places in mind to search."

Thor ground his teeth but offered no reply. There was no way he was letting the tracker out of his sight—not when he continued to use the word "hunt" when referring to the search for Loki.

The tracker had no name or allegiances. Known only by his trade, it was said he was from a distant world that died soon after he was born. His features were humanoid and forgettable—colorless eyes, dirty brown hair, and scuff on his cheeks that he shaved every so often. He was dressed in jeans, a worn leather jacket, and heavy boots, though Thor had witnessed the man (or whatever he was) blend in seamlessly with whatever world they journeyed to. He had wondered more than once if the tracker was a shapeshifter. He was most assuredly a practitioner of magic.

Despite his untailored appearance, his talents were well known and not purchased at an easy price. He had found criminals, lost treasures, abducted political figures, and the kidnapped children of parents who had long given up hope. He had a high success rate and typically only failed when the person he was searching for was already dead. Still, there was something about him that made Thor uneasy. He did not like the idea of his little brother being seen as someone's prey.

It was said the All-Father paid a hefty sum to secure the tracker's services, and the queen had even sacrificed several priceless manuscripts as an added bonus to persuade him. It was the only way the tracker would agree to allow Thor to journey alongside him. Odin had taken one look at the tracker and insisted upon it. For three months, they'd explored various pockets of the universe, searching for any sign of the missing prince. Thor was still unconvinced the tracker was worth a fraction of his price.

Still, at times came a glimmer of hope. There was a faint but familiar scent in the air that troubled Thor's heart and sent him wandering about the apartment. He found a small bedroom that contained a flimsy, metal-frame bed and very little else. The closet door was cracked open, but no clothing or other personal items were to be found. Just an empty wire coat hanger, swinging ever so slightly like it had been recently disturbed. Thor stared at a small pile of blank white paper on the floor before the open balcony doors. There was no writing on the pages, and the outside breeze blew them peacefully across the floor.

The apartment was like a blank canvas. It was as if a ghost had lived here and was trying to speak—yet could only hint at its presence.

Though Thor wanted to dismiss the idea that his brother would ever live in such a place, all it took was to walk over to the unmade bed and take hold of the lifeless pillow. Thor lifted it to his nose, inhaled, and his throat went tight with emotion. His brother's scent was ingrained in his memory. It brought his face to Thor's mind as clearly as if he was standing right there.

 _Loki_.

His brother had been here. This was his pillow, and it was still warm to the touch.

In a sudden rush for answers, Thor felt the tangled mess of sheets and then the mattress before deciding that the warmth wasn't in his imagination.

"He was just here," he called into the other room. "The bed is still warm to the touch." His voice was thick with weariness and grief. He was physically exhausted from months of searching without much rest but far more fatigued in his heart from the worry. More than anything, Thor wanted to find Loki safe and sound. Then he could rest.

The tracker entered the bedroom. "He must have detected our approach and fled. He won't have gotten far."

Thor shook his head. "Loki can slip between worlds and hide behind illusions. He is all too cunning when it comes to escape. Why do you think it's taken us so long to find even a trace of him?"

"He's weakened and growing more so by the day. I doubt he's capable of magic at the moment—at least not any that would outwit me."

The tracker held out his hand, and Thor reluctantly passed the pillow over. "What do you mean to do?"

After giving it a contemplative sniff, the tracker extended his palm over the pillow and whispered words of power. A chill went through Thor at the sound. He was used to magic, having grown up in a family of practitioners, but the tracker's sei _ð_ r seemed darker somehow. When he used it, Thor always thought he smelled traces of sulfur.

At the tracker's bidding, a golden light lifted from the pillow. It was transparent and faint, glowing and changing like candlelight. It hovered for a moment, and then the tracker sent it forth with another whispered command.

It was Loki's trail, Thor realized. No wonder the tracker had such a high success rate, if this was in his bag of tricks. The golden wisp of light traveled across the bedroom, scattering the blank pages as it flew to the open balcony doors. Thor's lips parted in dismay, and he hurried to look over the railing at the streets below. Had Loki jumped? Not that Thor considered his brother to be suicidal, but he had never thought Loki was the type to run away either.

"Wait for it," the tracker said. "The spell is still unfolding."

Relief flooded through Thor when he saw the golden light move away from the balcony and double back through the bedroom. It seemed to follow the exact path Loki had taken when he'd fled the apartment, stopping first at the empty closet—(had Loki taken something from inside?)—and then moving toward the living room.

As they followed it, Thor asked, "What did you mean before? You said my brother was weakened. How can you know that?"

"I merely looked around," the tracker replied. "A bit hard to miss. No food. Empty cupboards, and the refrigerator can't function without electricity. The sink is bone dry, so my guess is the water doesn't work either. There's nothing here to keep him alive unless he leaves the apartment on foot to secure supplies. But from the look of the dust on the floor, it's only been walked across once in the last week. That took place about five minutes ago."

Thor blinked at the ground, where the trail passed over a faint set of footprints in the dust. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the golden wisp did not seem to move with much energy.

"If he's dehydrated and malnourished, his sei _ð_ r will be sluggish to respond," the tracker said. "That is, if he's capable of calling upon it at all. That will work in our favor. It's time we closed in on our prey."

Thor's gaze darkened. Though he absolutely hated when the tracker used that word, Thor did not correct him. Far too many months had passed with no answers and very little in the way of hope. "I'm with you."

* * *

The Midgardian moon was larger than Thor's memories of it, hanging low and sickly yellow in the light pollution. His eyes strained to see the stars to help him determine the direction they were facing, but their distant twinkle was no match for the glare of a city that refused to sleep.

It was a dizzying place, full of distracting sights and a conflicting myriad of smells. One street stank of sewage and refuse and the next of savory meat and sauce. As the exotic spices tingled Thor's nose, his stomach felt unsettled from the contradictions. His mind tried to remember his brother's scent but could not seem to retrieve it. His hands clenched and unclenched as if in want of something to fill them.

Why would Loki have even come to such a place? He hated the raucous racket and filth of lesser realms. He felt the Midgardians were uncultured and unrefined, so why choose to live among them? None of it made any sense.

"Can you tell if he's close?" Thor asked.

"Not far ahead of us, I'd wager," the tracker said. "Stay sharp. If we see him, we must act quickly in the event he puts up a fight." He reached behind his shoulder and pulled a heavily modified rifle free from the straps of a leather pack he kept on his back.

Thor's pace slowed momentarily, and he had to push to catch up. He'd seen the tracker use that weapon against the more unsavory creatures they'd encountered in foreign realms. Each time it was fired, the effect was different—from a poisonous dart that killed the victim slowly to a bullet capable of leaving a hole the size of a fist in an enemy's forehead. Thor had no idea how it worked or what enchantments might be laid upon it, nor did he understand how the tracker meant to utilize such a weapon now, in a peaceful realm. The city dwellers did not seem to notice the rifle, leaving Thor to speculate whether or not they could even see it.

"I agree Loki must be found, but do not forget he is a prince of Asgard—not to mention my brother. You will not bring him to harm."

"He is worthless to me dead," the tracker said. "Your father wants the prince returned to Asgard alive, so that is what he shall receive. But if my gut instinct is right—and it usually is—your brother will not come willingly. You need to prepare yourself to witness a struggle."

"Then it is _me_ he will struggle against." The edge in Thor's voice left little room for discussion on the matter. "Put away your weapon."

Several moments of tense silence passed between them. "You run the risk of losing him."

"And you run the risk of exhausting what little remains of my patience."

The tracker chuckled without humor but holstered his rifle in the straps of his pack once again. "Very well. Take the lead, if you think you can catch him. Let's see how good a hunter you truly are."

Though they were both dressed in Midgardian attire in an effort to blend in, Thor still received a fair amount of attention. His size and glower inspired pedestrians to move out of his way as he jogged down the sidewalk. The tracker followed just behind. No one seemed to notice the golden wisp of light weaving through the crowd ahead of them. It danced right and left, indicating Loki had been forced to dodge between oncoming pedestrians in his escape. Eventually, it paused at the front of a liquor store and lingered there long enough to puzzle Thor.

"He stopped to catch his breath," the tracker explained. "I told you. He's weak."

"All the more reason to find him quickly," Thor said. "Can you speed up the advancement of the spell? At this rate, we'll always be five minutes behind him. More, if his head start is greater than we assumed."

"Oh, I doubt that," the tracker said with a cryptic smile. The florescent light from the store's sign glinted electric blue off of the whites of his eyes.

The golden wisp had started to move again, its progression much slower this time. It seemed to trudge toward an alleyway between the liquor store and the apartment building next to it. The tracker made a gesture, and the spell vanished from the air just before it could slip into the shadows. "On your guard," he said. "Your brother is hiding in that alley. Still resting, it would seem."

It was all Thor could do not to rush forward to verify this claim for himself. Together, they crept toward the mouth of the alley and stopped. A recent rain had dampened the pavement beneath their feet, and tiny ripples went through any puddle they tread upon. They had to choose each step carefully, if they wished to remain undetected. Thor sent up a little prayer before he dared a glimpse into the darkness.

A light at the end of the alleyway revealed only Loki's silhouette. His shadow stretched out long before him as though he was unconsciously reaching for his brother. Loki leaned against the liquor store's brick exterior, looking utterly exhausted. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back and resting against the building, and his chest moved up and down a little too fast.

Though Thor couldn't see his brother's face, he would recognize the familiar lines of Loki's profile anywhere. His Adam's apple bobbed, his lips spread apart to allow for easier breathing. Thor took a step into the alley, quickly followed by another. This was it. The hour had come to confront his brother and put a stop to this endless search. It was time for Loki to come home.

"You're making a mistake," the tracker muttered.

Thor did not bother to respond. His attention was only for his brother. He crept as silently as he could into the alleyway but soon could bear it no longer.

"Loki?" he called softly. A question; a plea.

Loki's head jerked up in alarm, and the light caught his face.

Thor stopped walking and thought: _No_.

No, that could not be his brother.

Loki would never be that gaunt or pale. The hollow places beneath his cheekbones were far too deep. The shadows, too pronounced. The Midgardian clothing fit him all wrong— the bones of his shoulders prominent beneath the fabric of an iron gray t-shirt, the creases revealing a frame far too slight to belong to a prince. The hair was too long and disheveled—limp curls that barely skimmed his shoulders. There was not a hint of confidence, poise, or dignity to be found.

No, this wasn't right at all. Loki was a warrior. A prince of Asgard. Tall and ramrod straight. Slender, perhaps, but always healthy. Always taking Thor by surprise with hidden stores of strength. Graceful, clever, well-groomed, unspeakably witty.

In comparison, this Loki seemed like a complete stranger, but though Thor's brain rejected his appearance, he knew in his heart it was him. When Loki's eyes locked with Thor's, a look of abject fear crossed his face. He took in a sharp breath and pushed away from the wall.

"Brother?" Thor said, lifting both hands to show that he was no threat. He hadn't even brought Mjölnir along, choosing instead to leave it at the apartment. His voice wavered with uncertainty. "Please, Loki. It's only me. I've come to take you home."

Loki stumbled backwards two steps, his right hand extended and filling with power. He reared back, teeth gritted, and threw a concentrated wave of sei _ð_ r at his brother.

Brick exploded just to the left of Thor's head. Simultaneously, there was a flash of light and a loud _bang_ that left his ears ringing. In the time it took to flinch away from the flying pieces of brick, Loki had disappeared. Thor cursed and turned in circles, but could not determine what direction his brother had chosen. The tracker had been mistaken about Loki's ability to tap into his magic.

The golden wisp of the spell flew through the alleyway with the tracker running just behind. His rifle was once again in his hand. "Come on," he hissed as he passed. "He's too weak to teleport. We can still catch him."

It took Thor a few moments to wrap his mind around what had just happened—that his brother had recognized him, attacked him, and then fled. But _why?_

Thor had difficulty accepting that Loki would leave Asgard behind simply because he'd learned he was adopted. When Loki had first gone missing, Frigga had appeared to Thor during his exile on Midgard, wringing her hands with worry, and asked if he'd seen any sign of his brother. Heimdall could not seem to find him, no matter where he turned his gaze. Thor soon forgot about his own stubborn pride and willfulness, and after his focus shifted to his brother instead, it was not long before he was able to once again lift Mjölnir and join the search for Loki.

Odin had awoken from his sleep not long after that and was able to shed some light on the final conversation he'd had with Loki before his disappearance. The guards were the last in Asgard to see the missing prince, and they had revealed how frightened he'd looked. Did Loki think he was in trouble for Odin's fall into illness? Surely it had to be something irrational like that, for there was nothing to fear from his family. Though Odin was very quiet on the matter of his adopted son, Thor knew his father well enough to understand he was troubled over that final conversation with Loki. Spending a small fortune on the tracker's talents was evidence of the All-Father's desire to make things right again.

When his parents revealed to Thor the truth about Loki's origins, he could not lift his weapon for three days. Not because Mjölnir had deemed him unworthy but because Thor made that judgment upon himself. There was such a tangled web of misunderstanding, ignorance, and lies, it took time for him to see his way through it and arrive at the simple truth that none of it mattered. Loki was his brother, and Thor loved him and saw him no differently than he had before. Didn't Loki know they were still family? He'd behaved like Thor meant to harm him. Like this truly was a _hunt_.

A memory surfaced in Thor's mind—of slashing an imaginary sword in the air while his little brother watched with a vague smile on his face. Thor had promised to track every last frost giant down and slay them all where they stood.

Surely, Loki didn't think . . . ?

Thor swallowed with difficulty and followed after the tracker with newfound determination. This had to stop.

* * *

Loki's trail directed them to the subway. As they crept down the stairs that led to the underground platform, the tracker cloaked them with invisibility and silenced the sound of their footfalls, breathing, and whispers. Loki would not be able to see or hear them coming.

 _This isn't fair_ , Thor thought to himself. Though it was not beyond Loki to resort to such trickery himself, it felt dishonest to Thor to deceive his brother in such a way. It would certainly help their chances of capturing him, but at what cost to Loki's trust?

"Perhaps I could attempt to speak with him again," Thor said. He tried not to breathe, for the air was stale and unpleasant, stinking of urine and unwashed pavement. "I think . . . it was like he was afraid of me. He doesn't understand we mean him no harm."

"Did you see his face?" the tracker said. "He's more likely to kill you out of fear than listen to reason."

Thor looked at him sharply. "My brother would never hurt me. That is ridiculous."

"In case you failed to notice, he attacked you."

"Yes—and missed on purpose. It was a distraction so that he could slip away. Locate him, as you have been charged to do, but then you leave Loki to me. I do not care for the way you speak of him, as though he's some kind of criminal or beast to be hunted."

The tracker spared him a brief sideways glance. "If I may suggest securing your brother before making an attempt to reason with him. He's not going to listen unless he has no choice, and I have no desire to bring a pair of bodies back to your father."

"Bring Loki to harm, and the last thing you will have to worry about is facing my father."

The tracker did not react to this threat in any way, which only made Thor want to fortify it with another. He fumed as he followed the man through the platform. Somewhere up ahead came the sound of a woman's voice speaking in Spanish, though Thor could not see her. The All-Tongue revealed that she was begging anyone who might be listening to repent of their sins, for the end of all things was close at hand.

There was no one else on the platform save for a middle-aged man, who was dressed in threadbare clothing and wrapped in a blanket that stunk of mildew. He sat on the floor with the wall against his back, and there was a small cup of coins beside him. Thor looked him hard in the face, wondering if he was Loki disguised with an illusion.

The tracker, however, had little interest in the man and passed him by without a second glance. He approached the tracks and sniffed the air. "He's close. See that movement in the air just over there by the wall? His sei _ð_ r is failing him."

Thor looked and after a moment of searching, noticed an area of wavering space about twenty paces away from them. It was the size of a man, and the golden wisp of light hovered just in front of him, presumably unseen.

"Do not approach just yet," the tracker said. "There are still too many places for him to run. Wait for the train to lend a distraction."

Thor's heart ached at the realization that Loki was so close—that he was weakened and afraid, yet hiding from Thor like they were sworn enemies instead of brothers. Thor simultaneously wanted to embrace Loki and then throttle him for being so thoughtless. Did he have any idea what his disappearance had done to his family? Anger and longing battled for position at the forefront of Thor's thoughts.

"Steady," the tracker said. "Here comes the train. If he gets on it, we follow and take him in the car. If he doesn't, we use the train as a distraction and grab him here. He should be nearly drained at this point."

Thor's frown deepened. "What do you mean? Loki is no amateur. He can hold an illusion for hours without expending much energy at all."

The tracker didn't reply, which did not sit well with Thor. He was about to demand an explanation when a gust of hot air hit him from behind and blew his hair into his face. A rumble could be heard in the distance, though moving fast. Thor glanced at the tunnel, registered the approach of the train, and then returned his gaze to the place where his brother stood. He was surprised to see that Loki's form had nearly taken shape. Just as the train shot out of the tunnel and screeched to a halt in front of them, Thor watched his brother materialize fully.

The homeless man tilted his head to one side, as if trying to determine if he'd really just witnessed someone appear out of thin air.

The tracker was right. Loki's sei _ð_ r seemed to be failing him. He could no longer conceal himself and did not seem to be aware that Thor was so close.

Loki looked ill with fatigue, and his brow was dotted with sweat. He glanced around, face full of weary trepidation, and staggered toward the open doors of the subway train. He gripped his shoulder like it was injured, and indeed, there was blood on his shirt.

"What did you do to him?" Thor growled through his teeth.

"Move," the tracker hissed back. "On the train. Quickly."

Loki entered the first car he encountered, and Thor and the tracker slipped silently into the one just behind it, keeping an eye on their target through the open doorway between their cars. They were the only passengers in sight. The overhead lights flickered when the train began to move and pick up speed. Thor steadied himself by holding on to one of the metal poles positioned on either side of him, and he watched with a sick feeling in his gut as his brother dropped into a forward-facing seat as if he couldn't walk another step without falling.

Thor grabbed hold of the tracker's shoulder, thus preventing any attempt at forward movement. "I will ask you one more time before I lose my temper entirely. What did you do to my brother?"

"I shot him in the alley, just as he was attacking you," the tracker said, as if nothing could be more obvious. "The noise was quite loud. Didn't you notice?"

Thor _had_ noticed but had assumed the bang and flash of light were a result of his brother's attack on him. It seemed both had originated from the rifle. Thor's fingers dug into the tracker's shoulder. "Shot him with what?"

"A dart, though it seems he's managed to pull it out. It was laced with an enchantment of my own making, designed to slowly drain his energy. If we do not capture him within the hour and neutralize the spell, it will eventually weaken him to death. Your choice if you'd prefer to stay here and chat while he sits there, wasting away."

Thor released the tracker and shoved him roughly to the side. "I go first. You will not touch him again except to remove the enchantment. Do you understand?"

As the tracker caught himself and straightened, his lips twisted into a dangerous smile. "After you."

With his thoughts dark with worry, Thor inched closer to his brother, his eyes fixed on the dark head that rested against the train's window. Though Loki could not see or hear them, Thor knew his brother had excellent instincts. It would not take much to alert him of their presence.

When Thor decided to act, he moved quickly—rushing forward and reaching to capture Loki's arm before he could again slip away. But when Thor's fingers encountered only empty air, he realized he'd been tricked. Loki's illusion looked Thor right in the eye—green eyes sad and hauntingly beautiful against his pale complexion—before he faded from sight, leaving nothing behind but an empty seat.

"On your left!" the tracker shouted. He was blocking the rear doorway, rifle in hand.

An unexpected breeze stirred Thor's hair as if someone unseen was rushing past him. He reached out blindly, and his fingers encountered flesh and bone. Though Thor couldn't see his brother, there was no mistaking the sound of Loki crying out in alarm. As he attempted to twist away and escape, Thor barreled into his brother from behind and tackled him down to the aisle. When they hit the ground, both illusions faded away, revealing the brothers grappling and fighting for purchase.

"Loki, _stop_ ," Thor cried as he tried to pin his brother's arms down. "I'm not going to hurt you!"

This did little good. Loki fought him _hard_ , using his fists, nails, teeth, and the heels of his shoes to inspire his brother to let go. But as much as his muscles strained with every ounce of strength in his possession, Loki was no match for Thor.

"Let go of me!" Loki demanded through clenched teeth. There was a desperate edge to the words, as if he feared his captors meant to do something terrible to him. He knew he was losing and began to fight impossibly harder.

"Loki, please!" Thor tightened his hold on his brother's wrists, even as Loki's efforts to get away dragged them ever closer to the doors. "You must calm down and listen to me. I mean you no harm. I would never—" He trailed off when he registered that the tracker had lifted his rifle and was taking aim. Thor's limbs went numb with fear. "No! No, you stand d—"

The tracker fired, and the sound of the shot ricocheted off of the enclosed walls of the train car, amplified tenfold. Loki and Thor cried out at the same time, but only Loki went limp, his fingers straining toward a small dart that was buried in his thigh. The narrow body was gold and covered in runes. Thor released Loki's wrist and yanked the dart out of his leg.

Loki's eyes swam like he was drunk, and his head fell back. While he didn't lose consciousness, he went perfectly silent, his eyelids fluttering as he stared up at the ceiling. Tears streamed from the outer corners of his eyes and slipped down to his ears.

"It's a tranquilizer," the tracker said as he lowered his weapon. "And you're welcome."

Thor might have murdered the man if not for the fact that his little brother was at long last in his arms. Despite his frail appearance, Loki was breathing steadily and seemed to only be weakened past the ability to fight or move. Thor hauled him to his chest and pressed his mouth to his brother's hair, so angry and relieved that his eyes welled up with tears.

"Remove the enchantment," Thor ordered quietly. "Do it now before I tear your limbs from your body."

The tracker again did not react to the threat. With a self-satisfied look on his face, he knelt beside the brothers, bowed his head in concentration, and lifted one hand. After a few whispered words, Loki jolted slightly in Thor's arms and then gave a little moan of relief. He melted against his brother, his cheek dragging down the neckline of Thor's shirt.

"It's all right," Thor whispered, gathering Loki as close as he could manage. "You're safe. I promise, you're safe. Oh, Loki." He kissed his brother's hair and drew his scent deep into his lungs. "I finally found you."

The tracker got to his feet and stood over them, weapon still in hand, guarding his prize as the train began to slow in anticipation of the next stop.

* * *

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you thought if you have a few moments.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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_Loki scrubbed the rough bristles of a nailbrush across his knuckles until they were raw and almost bleeding. Water from the sink's faucet poured over his hands, so hot that it had turned his skin a blistering shade of red. The steam had fogged up the washroom's golden-framed mirror, but Loki's teeth chattered as if he were frozen to the core._

_His thoughts raced with questions. Jumped to conclusions. Backtracked when other possibilities presented themselves. All of it ran together until his mind was comprised of pure noise, and though he clamped his hands over his ears to drown it out, he could not escape the flood. He was the one drowning._

_Instinct told him to go straight to Frigga, who could clarify everything Odin had so inadequately explained before his collapse. His mother's gentle voice would soothe Loki's fears and assure him of his rightful place as her son._

_Only Frigga was not Loki's mother._

_He could think of no possible scenario where she was anything but a master deceiver. Her honeyed words were sweetened only to help him swallow the hidden bitterness of every spoon-fed lie. She had nourished him in this way for centuries._

_Loki looked up at the mirror—at the way droplets of condensation streaked down his reflection, distorting the familiar lines of his face. Like the markings of a Jötunn. He flinched and continued to scrub at his already clean hands._

_No, he would not go to Frigga._

* * *

"Watcher!" the tracker called to the clouds, which hung so low that they concealed the tops of the skyscrapers. They had rolled in from the east and swallowed the Midgardian moon. "Open the path to Asgard. The lost prince is tagged and detained."

Thor glared at him from behind, barely-controlled rage blazing in his eyes. What did the tracker mean by 'tagged'? If not for Thor's need to attend to his brother, the tracker would be little more than a bloody stain on the subway platform beneath the city.

Loki groaned, and his head fell forward. His hair was so greasy that it appeared wet, and the limp strands hid his face from sight.

Thor readjusted his hold on his brother in an effort to keep him from wilting to the sidewalk. One of Loki's arms was slung over Thor's neck, and he held onto Loki's wrist to keep it secured there. Thor further supported his brother with an arm wrapped around his waist and had half-carried him up the subway stairs to the streets above.

His mind reeled as he registered how much weight Loki had lost. He could barely stand, much less endure the physical strain of traveling via the Bifröst. Even if Loki hadn't expended every last shred of energy trying to get away from Thor, the sedative still lingered in his bloodstream.

"Watcher!" the tracker shouted again.

Though they stood on a quiet street devoid of many pedestrians, the tracker still attracted the attention from the few individuals in the vicinity. A pair of businessmen out for a late night drink jaywalked to the other side of the street to avoid crossing their path.

The tracker reared around to face Thor. "Why doesn't your Watchman answer? The All-Father owes me the other half of my payment, and I mean to collect it tonight."

The pace of Loki's breaths first faltered and then quickened. He had realized where they meant to take him and was beginning to panic again. Thor tightened his hold on him and took note of the tracker's stance, which was tensed as if ready to reach for his rifle. If there was one thing Thor had neither the time nor patience for, it was putting up with this insubordination for another second.

"Heimdall, get him out of my sight," Thor said.

Immediately, the Bifröst split the sky open with a crack of sound and light. As the blinding spectrum of color fell over the tracker and pulled him up into the heavens, every car alarm in the immediate area went off. The lights on the city block flickered and failed. The pair of businessmen stopped to stare in amazement before turning to flee in the opposite direction.

Heimdall had only taken the tracker, leaving Thor and Loki behind on Midgard. But when the light of the Bifröst faded, the Queen of Asgard was left standing on the sidewalk in the tracker's place.

Frigga was dressed in Midgardian clothing, her shoulders and arms covered in a sage-green wrap. Her pants flowed like a skirt around her legs, and her hair was neatly braided and fell over one shoulder where it stretched toward the front of her waist. Her face looked older than it had one year ago, and there were new strands of gray hair at her temples. Still, despite the worry and anxiousness that pulled the corners of her mouth downward, hope shone in her eyes.

"Loki," she whispered as she rushed forward.

Thor relaxed and smiled gratefully up at the sky. "Thank you, old friend."

* * *

Steam filled every inch of the tiny bathroom in Loki's apartment. There was hardly enough room for two grown men to occupy the space together, much less two gods. A solitary light-bulb positioned above the mirror gave off an inadequate amount of light, but Thor was glad the apartment now had electricity and hot, running water at all. Frigga had worked some sort of magic and had all the utilities turned on. That was the first of many battles and perhaps the simplest.

"Loki, please stop fighting me," Thor said for the fourth time in ten minutes. "It's a bath. Not water-torture."

They stood together in the shower. Loki had refused to get in, and Thor had literally been forced to drag his brother under the stream of water. Loki was filthy, his skin and clothing covered in mud and dirt from his flight through the wet city streets and struggle with Thor in the subway car.

Thor had managed to peel off his brother's t-shirt before getting him into the shower, but Loki still wore a pair of faded black jeans. They sagged low and wet, and the sharp jut of his hipbones was barely adequate support to hold them up. Soapsuds journeyed down the prominent spaces between his rib bones and toward the hard, inward curve of his stomach.

"Get _away_ from me," Loki hissed. His struggling was fierce enough to knock the bar of soap out of Thor's hands.

But when Thor released his brother's arm, Loki only slid down the shower wall like he couldn't stand any longer. He sat hard on the tile floor and wrapped his arms around his legs. Water beat at the top of his bowed head and trembling shoulders.

Seeing his little brother so utterly defeated made it difficult for Thor to hold on to any anger or irritation for more than a few seconds. He knelt beside Loki and retrieved the bar of soap from where it had fallen near the drain. Thor was still fully dressed, for he hadn't anticipated having to get into the shower _with_ _Loki_. Every scrap of fabric Thor wore was now waterlogged, but that was the least of his worries.

As gently as he could manage, he washed Loki's skin. Thor's heart sank ever lower when he realized not all of the discoloration was a result of dirt. There were ugly bruises developing on Loki's wrists and elsewhere on his body from wrestling with Thor in an attempt to get away. The worst bruise by far was on Loki's shoulder, where the tracker had hit him with the first dart. It looked like he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning, and angry red marks spread away from the point of impact like twisting vines. Thor was willing to bet there was a similar mark on Loki's thigh.

Since when was he so prone to bruising? Such things were easy enough to mend but were disquieting all the same. Loki was not well, mentally or physically. At all.

Once Loki's skin was adequately clean save for his lower half, which couldn't be reached with his jeans still on, Thor poured some fragrant shampoo into his palm and prepared to wash his brother's hair.

Frigga had provided the shampoo, along with everything else in the bathroom—clean towels that smelled of sunshine, a rug to keep them from slipping on the linoleum, and new clothing that sat neatly folded and waiting on the sink. She'd arranged for all of it to be delivered to the apartment, which had happened with surprising speed. She and several attendants from Asgard were still moving items into the other rooms. Loki could not return home until he was stronger, and Frigga meant to make him as comfortable as possible until that hour came.

But first, Loki had to get clean. When Thor began to work the shampoo through his brother's hair, Loki's head popped up. There was a murderous look in his eyes that might have annoyed Thor were his heart not in the process of breaking.

"Loki," Thor sighed.

"Get," Loki said through his teeth, water dripping from his chin. "Out."

The resulting struggle to wash Loki's hair lasted five terribly long minutes. Then Thor had to do it all over again when he still wasn't satisfied with the results. Loki fought him every step of the way, his outrage helping him tap into hidden stores of strength.

Thor was convinced half of Midgard could hear Loki cursing at him. By the end of it, the tiles on the shower floor were cracked, and there was surely water leaking into the neighbor's bathroom downstairs. Thor had defeated warlords with far less effort than this. But at long last, Loki was clean, and Thor hung his head with relief as he shut off the water.

Loki got out of the shower the first second he was allowed, shaking with anger and from the cold. He refused to look at his brother.

Thor eyed him warily as he reached for a towel. "Take those off. Mother brought you clean clothes to wear."

Loki unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off furiously. Thor's gaze fell to his brother's thigh, where he confirmed that there was another appalling mark left there from the tracker's second dart. Thor was so distracted by his fury over this that he didn't see Loki bundling up his wet jeans into a ball and then throwing them right into his older brother's face.

Thor blinked in astonishment as he watched Loki saunter off into the bedroom, dripping wet and naked as the day he was born.

* * *

In the dimly lit stillness of the bedroom, Thor found his brother lying on a barren corner of the mattress, facing away and curled in on himself. He stared straight ahead at the twin balcony doors, which were now shut and locked. The city lights twinkled at him through the rain-speckled windows.

The bedroom had been transformed in a bewildering amount of time. There was new furniture, softly glowing lamps on the nightstands, and clothing hanging in the closet. The pile of loose paper Thor had previously noticed on the floor was stacked neatly beside the lamp, with a pen placed on top. The room was unrecognizable. Only Frigga could have pulled off such a feat in less than an hour. She must have called upon an army of palace servants to come to Loki's aid, but if they were still in the apartment, they were occupied elsewhere. The door was closed, and the bedroom empty of anyone except the brothers. Thor heard only unobtrusive shuffling and the occasional murmur of voices in the other room.

The rickety metal-frame bed had been replaced with something larger and sturdier. The new bed was constructed of heavy wood, and the mattress was piled high with down-filled blankets and endless pillows. Loki had shoved every single one of them to the opposite side of the bed and had even pulled the sheets partially free from the mattress before lying down, intent on being miserable and expressing his dissatisfaction in any way he could.

_Leave me alone_ , he seemed to say. _All of you._

Thor stood there for a minute and watched him, still trying to wrap his mind around the complete change in his brother. Loki had always been emotional—but not like this. He was the type to strive harder when confronted with a challenge or setback. It was always so important to him to prove to others that he was capable.

Only now, Loki appeared frozen, unwilling to exert the energy to even dry himself off before he'd collapsed into bed. Had Thor been the one to demonstrate such carelessness, the Loki he once knew would have fussed at him and demanded he show some self-respect. Thor had never seen his brother not care about anything to this degree. The light had gone out of his eyes.

Though he was still soaking wet himself, Thor brought a towel over to the bed and began to dry his brother's skin, starting first at his injured shoulder and then working down the curve of his back. He captured the water droplets that collected in the dips and hollows of Loki's body and along the conspicuously prominent path of his spine. The room held only a slight chill, but Loki trembled as though he were freezing. Thor could not help but notice that there were no goose-bumps on his skin. Was he frightened?

Once he was done drying Loki off, Thor pulled the blanket over his brother and tucked him in. "Try to relax," he said.

"Go to Hel," Loki muttered back.

The brothers had engaged in centuries of unending bickering, just like any other siblings, and so Thor paid little attention to Loki's words. He'd heard them before, sometimes tossed in his direction as a joke, other times with considerably more heat. However, Thor had never heard Loki say them in that tone. Quiet and resigned. It was enough to inspire Thor to stop what he was doing and stare. Several long moments of silence passed before he remembered himself and set about working again.

Loki's hair was a mess of tangled curls that dripped into his face. He flinched as water streaked past his eyes but did not move to wipe it away. Thor worked the towel through his brother's hair and did his best to get most of the moisture out. A year ago, Loki would have simply dried it with a spell and laughed at Thor's inability to do the same.

"None of it matters to me, you know," Thor said, tucking a damp strand behind Loki's ear. "Where you were born. Who your birth parents are." The words did not come to him easily and seemed so inadequate compared to all he felt inside. He wasn't prepared to have this conversation yet but had to say something.

"How convenient for you." Loki shut his eyes. "To not have to care."

Thor's face heated; that wasn't what he'd meant at all. "You are still my brother."

Loki gave a tired chuckle. And then the most painful look of grief crossed his face—chin dimpled and quivering, his eyes squeezing together ever tighter, as if to block something out he couldn't help but witness in his mind—before he again fell silent.

* * *

When Thor finally left the bedroom, he was in a daze for more reasons than one. It took him a few seconds to even recognize that the living room was the same dark, vacant place he'd stood in just a few hours ago with the tracker, thinking Loki would never step foot here.

Frigga had worked miracles with the cramped apartment. The wood floors had been cleaned until they shone, and a lush fur rug was arranged in the middle. Servants had brought in furniture—cushy leather couches, carefully arranged tables, and lighting to make the most of the tight space. There was even a bookcase, which held a portion of Loki's well-loved collection. Though his tastes were typically more sophisticated than this, it seemed Frigga had chosen items meant to provide comfort rather than demonstrate much style or refinement. Thor immediately felt at home and hoped Loki would feel the same.

Food had also been delivered from Asgard's kitchens, and the cabinets and refrigerator were now stocked with anything the brothers might want—from fruit to sliced meats and breads. On the counter was a small rack of nicely aged wine, which Loki preferred over mead, and beside it was a plate of his favorite pastries that glistened with honey.

Frigga had just finished putting away a small assortment of dishes, goblets, and silverware, and she seemed frustrated with the limited space she had to work with. The apartment smelled wonderfully of cinnamon and cloves, and there was a pot of liquid simmering on the stove that appeared to be the source. Orange rinds and star anise floated on the surface. After Frigga closed the final cabinet, she moved to stir the pot.

Thor couldn't help but smile at how quickly his mother had warmed up the place. Loki had not given her the most gracious of welcomes. When she'd descended from Asgard and rushed over to embrace her lost son, Loki had flinched away from her like she'd meant to attack him. This had puzzled Thor at the time, but Frigga had responded to it with grace, demonstrating nothing but love and patience as they brought Loki back to his apartment to recover. Only now could Thor see the traces of grief and hurt in his mother's face, revealed only when she was certain Loki would not see.

"Have the servants all gone?" Thor asked.

"The last one left a few minutes ago. It should be quieter now so that he can sleep." Frigga glanced up at her eldest son briefly but then did a double take. " _Thor_ ," she said, her tone mildly scolding. "You're dripping on the clean floor. How did you get so wet?"

With a sigh, Thor glanced in the direction of Loki's bedroom, which was answer enough. Surely his mother had heard the cursing. "He's clean now, but his hair is in tangles. I can't find anything to comb them out."

Frigga gave the liquid one final stir and set the spoon aside. "I will come tend to him soon. Now that I see what he needs, I can bring more supplies tomorrow."

It was difficult to believe the apartment could hold anything else. It was practically bursting with comfort. "No one could have done a better job," Thor said.

She walked over to him with an affectionate smile and placed a hand on his cheek. Her sei _ð_ r washed over him in a warm wave, and Thor was left perfectly dry a moment later. Even his clothing felt as though it had been hanging outside in the summer sun all day long. Thor covered her hand with his own and returned her smile. "Is that mulled wine you're making?"

"His favorite." Frigga's voice seemed to tremble as though she were nervous. "I used to make it for him whenever he was sick or unable to sleep."

"I remember," Thor said. "He's cold, so I think it will help."

Her smile widened in appreciation of the encouragement, but it was strained. "I added a little something extra to aid in restoring his strength. It's in the aroma, for I doubt he will actually drink any of the wine."

"He's all right," Thor assured her. "Only bruised from our struggle."

"Now you know better than to lie to your mother." Frigga patted his cheek once and turned back toward the kitchenette. She picked up a small, unlabeled jar from the counter and held it out to him. "This is an ointment for his bruises. It should heal the minor ones overnight, and the others in a day or so. Apply it every four hours until they've faded."

Thor accepted the jar from her. "You do not mean to stay?"

She sighed and looked around for something to occupy herself with, but everything was done. "Loki is very angry with me right now. I feel it best to give him time and space to work through that. You were unaware of the truth until recently and have never lied to him the way your father and I have. I think out of all of us, Loki will open up to you the most."

Thor didn't feel as certain about that, for Loki was clearly angry with him as well. "And what of father? Will he come?"

One of Frigga's eyebrows lifted. "Your father is busy dealing with _him_. Once that is done, I will ask him if he means to visit Loki before his return to Asgard."

Thor nodded, understanding that Frigga spoke of the tracker. He hoped the All-Father had him publicly denounced for his treatment of a prince of Asgard. "How long until Loki is strong enough to travel?"

"That depends on his willingness to strengthen. I can bring him every scrap of food in the palace kitchens, but that does not mean Loki will eat. And even if his body is eventually able to undertake the journey, his mind may not be ready. Forcing him to return would only make Asgard feel like a prison, and he would leave again at the first opportunity."

Thor's frown deepened. "What do I do to help him want to return to us? He won't even look at me. It's as though he's not even there."

"He's there," Frigga said, "though hiding very deep inside of his own head. He will need to be coaxed out. We must meet his basic needs, first and foremost. Food, shelter, and rest. And with that, he will require mountains of patience, unconditional love, and to know without a shadow of doubt what he means to you."

"I don't understand how he doesn't know that already." Thor swallowed and looked at the ground, ashamed of his own thoughts. "It makes me angry. He ran away, and we didn't know if he was alive or dead for an entire _year_. I understand why he's upset at learning the truth after so many centuries of thinking otherwise, but it certainly didn't call for _this_."

"Once he's better recovered, I think you should tell him that," Frigga said. "Though not quite yet. Not until we've reestablished some trust with him. I know his actions don't make sense to you right now, but when you're struggling to understand, look at his face and know that the pain is very real to him. Your brother is hurting."

"And how do I fix that? It's like trying to fight an enemy I can't see."

Frigga brushed Thor's hair out of his eyes and touched his face so that he would look at her again. "You are such a brave boy. I know you will find a way. Start by listening to your brother, and don't judge or discount what he's feeling. You might see his viewpoints as irrational, but that doesn't mean they don't feel real to him. Guide him to the truth to diffuse misconceptions rather than arguing with him—or simply don't say anything at all. Sometimes listening without speaking is best. Loki has always responded well to physical touch. Put your arm around him. Rub his back. That sort of thing. His thoughts often race and pull him out of the present moment, but whenever I would cuddle him as a child, it's as though he would wake up and remember I was there."

Thor turned the jar of ointment over and over in his hands as he considered his mother's counsel. Though he still wasn't convinced it would be enough, he said, "I will do my best to bring him home soon."

"I know you will." Frigga stretched out her arms, and they embraced, taking comfort in something solid when so much else had fallen apart around them. "You are a good son and brother. Thank you for taking care of him while I'm unable."

* * *

They went to Loki together so that Frigga could say her goodbyes. He had not budged since Thor had left him. Loki was still lying on his side, blinking at the balcony doors as if not seeing them at all. His vision seemed to stop a few inches in front of his eyes.

Frigga released Thor's hand and sat down on the bed beside her youngest son. She placed a steaming cup of mulled wine on the nightstand, and the scent soon permeated the room with its restorative powers. As she smoothed Loki's damp hair away from his face, sei _ð_ r flowed from her fingers to untangle and dry the strands. Soon his hair fell in soft, clean waves onto the pillow.

"When you were a baby," Frigga told him, "your father brought you to me bundled up tight in a blanket, not so different from this one." She tucked the down blanket around him. "I knew the second you were placed in my arms that you were mine. I held you against me all night long and kept you warm while you slept. For nine months, I would not let anyone take you from me. I wanted you to know my heartbeat and the sound of my voice so that you would understand I was your mother. I wanted that connection with you—to nurture you so that you would always recognize me and feel safe. You are my child, Loki. I love you very much and am so grieved that I've hurt you. I will ask for your forgiveness now but know you will need time to think on it. That's all right. We will talk more later when you're ready, but I did not want to leave without telling you that. I will come again tomorrow to see you." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple.

Thor studied her carefully and made note of the way she spoke to his brother. He knew she was just as upset as he was that Loki had disappeared without so much as a goodbye, but none of that came across in her dealings with him. She was patient and kind, and there was not a hint of anger in her tone or any attempt to scold him for wrongdoing.

Loki let out a huff of dissatisfaction and shut his eyes. He didn't look happy, but he also didn't appear as angry as he'd been after Thor had forced care upon him.

Frigga left not long after that, giving Thor a kiss on the cheek before slipping silently from the room. Soon the brothers were alone in the apartment. Through the balcony doors came the muffled sounds of the city, along with the peaceful patter of rain. Paired with the aroma of the wine, even Thor found himself beginning to relax.

He sat down on the bed in the same place Frigga had previously occupied. Looking down at his brother, Thor barely knew where to start. There was nothing he could tell Loki that he would accept right now, and so Thor decided to take his mother's advice and say nothing at all. He could show him how much he cared instead.

Loki remained silent when Thor pulled back the blanket, revealing his upper body down to his waist. Thor opened the jar of ointment that Frigga had given him and dipped his fingers inside. It was a cream-colored substance with the same consistency as lotion. The scent reminded Thor of brown sugar melted together with vanilla extract, and it left a pleasant warming sensation behind wherever it touched.

Thor started with the small bruise on his brother's elbow, and as he rubbed the ointment in, he watched Loki's face for any reaction. There was nothing—only endless vacant staring—and Thor felt that was somehow worse than Loki screaming and cursing at him. At least there had been a hint of life in him when they'd scuffled in the shower.

But as Thor continued to rub the ointment onto every bruise he could find, massaging the cream in with circular motions, Loki's muscles began to relax beneath the warm pressure of his brother's hands. Frigga had been right about Loki's weakness for physical touch. That was simple enough to give, and so Thor took his time.

He found a knot beneath Loki's shoulder blade and worked at it with the ointment. When it released, Loki made a little sound in his throat—relief mixed with pain. It hurt Thor to hear it, for it made him realize his brother wasn't only in emotional pain. His body was suffering as well, though he hadn't told anyone that.

It was then that Thor made the mistake of trying to put the ointment on Loki's shoulder, where he was marked from the tracker's dart. Loki went rigid and sucked in air through his teeth like acid had been poured on his skin. He rolled onto his back and put a trembling hand on Thor's wrist to silently ask him to stop.

"I'm sorry!" Thor said. "I didn't realize that would hurt you."

The ointment _shouldn't_ have hurt him. There was nothing harmful or abrasive in it that might elicit such a reaction. It was the first time Thor had considered that the twin marks left on his brother's body might not be ordinary wounds. He remembered the runes engraved on the dart he'd pulled from Loki's thigh and the way the tracker had said he was now tagged. Perhaps he had not fully released Loki from every enchantment he'd placed upon him.

Loki shuddered and let go of his brother's wrist. His face was a few shades paler as he shifted onto his other side, now facing away from Thor as if to shut him out. "Who was he?" Loki asked, the words barely audible.

Thor very carefully dabbed the ointment onto a bruise near Loki's hipbone and tried not to fret over how thin his brother was. He would have to somehow persuade Loki to eat something in the morning. "Father hired him to find you and bring you home, though I don't think any of us knew he would resort to such tactics. I'm sorry I didn't better protect you from him. Heimdall brought him to Asgard. After the tracker is paid for his services, I doubt we will see him again."

But even as Thor spoke the words, he felt troubled. He pulled the blanket down further so that he could see the second wound on Loki's thigh. It was an angry shade of red and seemed to pulse with pain. Thor made a mental note to speak with his mother about the injuries tomorrow, for they did not seem as nonthreatening as he'd once thought.

Loki was once again shaking from the cold, and so Thor covered him up with the blanket, deciding to give the ointment another try later. He switched off the lamp on the nightstand and stood to pull his shirt over his head. Thor was exhausted, and the scent of the mulled wine made his eyelids feel pleasantly heavy.

As he walked around to the other side of the bed, he removed his belt and let it drop to the floor. He tossed no less than eight pillows over his shoulder before sliding beneath the sheets wearing only his jeans. The mattress was gloriously soft, and he sank into it with a grateful sigh.

Loki glared at him, irritated by the prospect of a bedmate, and he once again rolled around onto his other side so that he wouldn't have to face his brother. Thor paid no heed to this and instead reached for Loki, pulling him closer and onto the part of the mattress that was still covered with the sheets. If Loki would not seek out comfort for himself, Thor would make sure he received it anyway.

He bundled his brother up in his arms, scooting forward until his chest was pressed up against Loki's back. "Oh, hush," Thor said when he heard the growl of warning. But when he remembered his mother's demonstration of patience, he added in a kinder tone, "You're all right. I just want you to be warm."

And yet Loki continued to shake. Why was he so cold? The blanket was more than adequate. Thor rubbed a palm up and down his brother's arm, and when that seemed to have no effect, moved in closer and even hitched a leg around Loki to offer him the full benefit of Thor's body heat.

Eventually Loki grew still, his tremors finally silenced. When Thor noticed this, he was filled with a sudden rush of hope. This wasn't as difficult as he had assumed it would be. He began to feel like he could actually do some good. Loki was not so far gone that he couldn't be coaxed back to life with love and attention.

"We will figure everything out, brother," Thor said, his mouth pressed against Loki's hair. "Rest now, and tomorrow will be better. I will take care of everything. You do not have to go through this alone."

When Loki tensed in his arms, Thor could not decide what part of his declaration had upset him. Confusion and doubt began to diminish that shining moment of hope.

"Can you tell me what it is you need, Loki?" Thor captured his brother's hand within his own and gave it a squeeze. "Is there anything you want that might make this easier for you? I swear, if it is within my power, I will do it."

There was a long pause. Loki was quiet for so long that Thor assumed he'd fallen asleep. And then came a whisper in the darkness.

"I want to watch everything burn." Loki spoke the words with the gentle cadence of a bedtime prayer. "Every man, woman, child, and beast. Every memory. I want them all wiped from existence and then to throw myself into the fire afterward and become nothing. That is within your power, is it not?"

He closed his eyes and said no more.

Thor froze and remained that way for some time. An icy pang of distress stabbed at his heart, and now he felt like he might be the one left shivering.

Where in all the Nine Realms had _that_ come from? That did not sound like Loki Odinson, who was given to bouts of mischief but never that level of violence or malicious intent. The words sounded horribly wrong when spoken in Loki's familiar voice, and Thor struggled to understand why he would have said such things at all.

Surely Loki didn't actually want to harm anyone. He was obviously in pain, but only now was Thor beginning to sense the enormous well of anger building up pressure beneath the surface. He was at a loss over what to do about it. How did he even begin to respond to such a statement?

Again, he fell back on his mother's wisdom and said nothing at all. Wide-eyed and knowing he would find no rest that night, Thor cradled Loki closer and stroked his little brother's hair until he finally fell asleep.

* * *

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for the comments/kudos! If you're enjoying the story, I'd love to hear from you. (PS – yes, you will see the tracker again.)


	3. Chapter 3

_The Midgardian air was damp and heavy with the promise of rain, but Loki struggled to fill his lungs with air for reasons other than the humidity._

_It was difficult to think, and his thoughts were sluggish, like he was wading waist-deep in thick, debilitating mud. So overwrought was he with emotion that it took him longer than normal to process what he was seeing. And so he stared at his brother and the unknown mortal woman but could not seem to comprehend how two people could look so stupidly happy after everything had fallen apart._

_Thor and the Midgardian woman sat huddled together, side by side, watching the stars. Thor's jacket was draped across her shoulders, and his voice held an unfamiliar gentleness every time he called her Jane._

_The sound of her name made Loki feel strangely helpless. He thought it might be anger or perhaps jealousy that burned in his gut, but those emotions had never left him feeling quite this powerless before. This was something closer to the fear of a child hopelessly lost in the woods—a little boy who had realized he now had to take care of himself yet was utterly unprepared for such a thing._

_Loki had left Asgard behind with no small amount of effort. Instinct had brought him straight to Midgard, for that was where he'd learned Thor had fallen after Odin had banished him. As much as Loki resented his brother at times—with his simpleminded optimism and smothering presence, which Loki absolutely loathed unless he was deprived of it for more than an hour—he needed Thor so badly at that moment that his throat ached with longing._

_Loki stood there in plain sight and silently pleaded with Thor to simply_ look at him _—to turn away from the self-indulgent whims that had stolen him away from Loki a little more every day._

Please, brother _ **,**_ _Loki said in his mind, for there was too much built up inside of him to allow him to speak out loud. Too many thoughts, fears, and hurts to ever hope to put into words. No one to hear, even if he could manage to speak. How easily his brother had replaced him._

_Thor never did look at him._

_Loki had assumed his heart was already broken—that he couldn't hurt anymore than he already did. But as he walked away, stunned and alone, he realized how very mistaken he was about his capacity for pain._

* * *

Though Thor was exhausted, lingering adrenaline kept his mind on edge and prevented him from falling into a deep sleep. He dozed and journeyed in and out of dreams. They were pleasant at first, for Loki's warmth and familiar scent were comforting—but even half-asleep, Thor found he had difficulty relaxing. The fear that Loki might again be lost haunted his thoughts and twisted his dreams.

Thor dreamt about chasing Loki through an endless desert. A place with no shadows. Little more than a vacant horizon. Thor followed a trail of footsteps left in the golden sand, but though he ran as fast as he could and caught sight of his brother many times, Loki always managed to slip away.

Thor woke up repeatedly during this dream and hugged Loki ever closer to reassure himself that his brother was no longer missing. But every time Thor closed his eyes again, the chase resumed.

After what felt like hours of running, Thor finally caught up with his brother, who had inexplicably stopped dead in his tracks and was staring down at the sand. But as Thor embraced Loki and wept his relief against the warm curve where his brother's neck met his shoulder, Loki began to sink down into the sand.

At first, Thor did not notice anything was wrong—not until the sand had swallowed Loki down to his ankles—and by then it was too late. Thor tried everything he could to free his brother from the trap, from attempting to pull Loki out himself to pleading with him to fight for his life.

"Why won't you try?" Thor begged him, practically in tears. "Brother, lift your legs. Grab hold of me. Do _something_."

But Loki only gazed back with sad, listless eyes. He was buried up to his chest now and struggling to breathe as the sand crushed the life out of him. "Try to catch me now," he whispered through lips already turning blue.

Thor awoke with a gasp, heart pounding, his brow dotted with sweat. Though he understood he'd only been dreaming, it was upsetting nevertheless. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and worked to slow his breathing.

"Loki, are you awake?" Thor knew he shouldn't disturb his brother's rest but wanted to hear his voice all the same.

Loki didn't move. Likely still under the effects of the sedative, he was fast asleep with Thor's arm serving as his pillow. The brothers were facing each other in bed, and Loki was huddled as close to Thor's warmth as he could possibly manage without actually burrowing underneath him.

Despite the anxiety left over from the dream, Thor couldn't help but smile. It was an absolute joy to see Loki so at peace and open to receiving affection, even if unconsciously.

Thor's nightmare was soon forgotten. He pulled the blanket around Loki's shoulder and whispered, "You're safe. I promise I will take better care of you this time." Though the words were spoken to Loki, Thor said them for his own sake. If anything, the dream had reminded him that finding Loki was only the first step. Things were not yet right, but Thor would not stop fighting until they were.

Through the windowed balcony doors came the glow of morning, but it was subdued by rainclouds. There was just enough light to allow Thor to see that Loki's haggard appearance had improved overnight. Though still far too thin, color had returned to his lips and face.

On the nightstand, the goblet of mulled wine Frigga had left still steamed, releasing its aroma into the room—an enchantment meant to restore her sons' strength. They had breathed in Frigga's magic all night. Gone was the bone-deep weariness Thor had endured from so many months of endless searching. His body was strong and his mind, less burdened. Despite his troubled dreams, he felt adequately rested but was far too comfortable to consider getting out of bed.

Loki was _so warm_. Thor kissed his brother's forehead and took Loki with him as he rolled onto his back. Loki's body was half on top of his brother's now, and he made a little sound of protest and stifled a yawn against Thor's chest. Thor chuckled as Loki wriggled sleepily against him in an attempt to find the position that would afford the most warmth. Thor felt the tickle of Loki's eyelashes flutter against his skin, but eventually, he grew still. The pace of his breathing revealed that he'd fallen back asleep.

Thor could not seem to stop smiling. Frigga had been right about Loki's response to physical touch. If he wouldn't talk to Thor or accept his declarations of brotherhood, at least Loki was open to this. The rest would come with time.

Thor ran his fingertips up and down the long length of Loki's spine and listened to the rain patter against the windows. Outside, the city had already awoken, but the sound of traffic seemed far away—like they were in their own world, floating above the rainclouds. Eventually, Thor's smile faded into something more serious. He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

Though Thor had elected to sleep in his jeans, Loki was naked beneath the covers. It was hardly the first time Thor had seen his brother without clothes on or even the first time they'd slept together in the same bed this way. But those occasions were in the days of their youth when they were hardly aware that they should care about things like modesty. Thor had barely taken note of it now until he registered the warmth of Loki's leg pressed between his thighs. Thor's morning erection pulsed, pinned between them.

Thor's fingers stopped moving, coming to rest on the patch of fine hair on the small of his brother's back. He swallowed. Shut his eyes. Tried to think of something else.

But the set of Loki's mouth against his skin was as soft as velvet and distractingly hot. Thor wondered what it might feel like if he turned them over and pressed his little brother into the mattress beneath him.

He drew in a deep breath and did not let it out until he'd shifted Loki's weight off of him. Once he managed to get out of bed, Thor pulled the covers up to Loki's chin, whispered an apology, and silently slipped out of the bedroom.

* * *

Storms rolled over the city for the remainder of the morning hours and into the afternoon, bringing with them thunder so loud that the windows of the apartment building rattled in their frames. Thor watched the storm and took note of the change in the direction of the wind. The flags atop a nearby building whipped around until they were pointed south, blown by a strong northerly wind.

Even after the pounding rain calmed into something gentler, thunder continued to rumble in the distance. There was a flash of light, followed by a sharp _crack_ that set off a wave of car alarms on the streets below. Those who heard the commotion would no doubt mistake it for the storm, but Thor immediately recognized the sound of the Bifröst.

Frigga had returned, just as she'd promised. Judging from the proximity of the flash of light, Heimdall must have positioned her arrival on the roof of the building.

By the time she reached the apartment, Thor had put on a clean shirt and was waiting for her with the front door held open. There were droplets of rain in her hair, but she still appeared far more composed than she had the prior evening—chin held high, eyes sparkling with affection for her eldest son. She had with her a small box, which she handed over to Thor while greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.

"You look better," Frigga said, "though not as thoroughly rested as I would have hoped. Did you not sleep well?"

Thor set the box on the kitchen counter and poked through the contents. It contained more supplies— various incidentals that Frigga had gathered together during the night. There was even a stack of Midgardian currency. "Well enough," Thor said, choosing not to mention his distressing dreams. "Loki is still asleep."

Frigga's smile became strained, but she did not let it falter. "And how does your brother fare?"

"The enchantment you left with us has already improved his pallor. I thought it best to let him rest and then persuade him to eat something once he awakens."

"I think I was a little over-zealous with my food choices last night," she admitted. "Loki obviously hasn't been eating regularly, and he might not be able to keep down anything rich. I've brought him something simpler to eat." She removed three containers of broth from the box and placed them on the counter beside the stove. "You can warm these up a bit, but I wouldn't recommend serving it to him piping hot. Keep things simple until he's proven he can stomach it."

Thor nodded. The broth was familiar to him, commonly given to the sick by Asgard's healers—high in calories and nutrients, though bland and easy on the stomach. It was an appreciated gesture, but he found it odd that Frigga was already leaving him with instructions for it. "You're not departing so soon, are you? You only just arrived."

Frigga was quiet for a few moments before replying. "I devoted much of the night to contemplation, as well as attempting to reason with your father. It's not that I want to stay away from your brother, but I think it best to continue to give Loki as much time and space as possible—before there's none left to give."

"But you already gave him space last night," Thor protested. "He's had a _year_ 's _worth_ of time."

"And yet only a few hours have transpired since we came back into his life. He needs to process that and understand he's not our prisoner. Thor, your father is pushing hard for Loki's immediate return. He wants your brother in Asgard the moment he's able to travel. Once Loki hears that, he will not react well to the news."

Thor glanced at the bedroom door. "He must already know we mean to bring him home."

"If that is true, then do not be surprised if he resists anything that might hasten his healing," Frigga said. "It's likely he will refuse to eat simply to delay his return. It occurred to me last night that perhaps that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"How so?" Thor asked, eyebrows lifted. "He needs to eat."

"I agree—but take it slow. Encourage him in that direction rather than forcing his hand. Stretch the healing process out as much as possible, and concentrate on addressing his fears and mending your relationship with him more than strengthening his physical body. Loki is strong and as long as his condition doesn't worsen, he will be fine to remain as he is. Even a few sips of broth a day will benefit him. Get him to commit to something small like that, and once he begins caring for himself on his own, you'll know he's ready to return to Asgard."

Thor blew out a slow breath. What his mother was asking him to do went against his instincts, which told him to push Loki toward recovery as quickly as possible. "I will do my best, though I wish you would stay. You have always known how to reach him."

"Oh, I wouldn't underestimate your talents in that arena. You know how to get ahold of me if I'm needed. But Thor—there's something else you should know." Frigga met her son's eyes and lowered her voice. "The tracker returned with me from Asgard only minutes ago. The All-Father has sent him to watch you both until Loki is well enough to manage the journey home."

Thor's posture went rigid. " _Why?_ "

"So that your brother does not find opportunity to slip away from us again."

"Mother, he hunted Loki down like an animal. He left marks on his body."

Frigga's frown deepened. "What kind of marks?"

"He hit Loki with two darts. They had runes on them—some kind of enchantment, I think. The wounds are enflamed, and the pattern looks like he was struck by lightning—like twisting vines or the branches of a tree. He could barely withstand the ointment last night."

"That sounds like a dampening spell. Have you seen Loki use his sei _ð_ r since last night?"

"No, but he's been asleep. The last time he used it was when he cast an illusion on the train, right before the tracker shot him with the second dart."

"He must have hit Loki again when the first shot was not enough to force his sei _ð_ r under control." Frigga sighed, displeased with this information. "Watch your brother carefully for any sign of unusual behavior, but he should be fine. The marks will be painful for another day or so but no longer than that. Once the enchantment is lifted, they'll fade completely."

Thor felt torn. Though dampening Loki's ability to use his magic would aid in preventing him from running away, it did not feel right. "And when will that happen?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. The enchantment would not be removed until Loki returned to Asgard and knelt obediently before the king.

"I will discuss the matter with the All-Father," Frigga said, "but I do not anticipate that he will intervene. You must understand, Thor—something happened between your father and brother that they have not shared with us. You know how stubborn your father can be when his ideals are challenged, and Loki leaving Asgard behind was a form of rejecting everything Odin has ever given him. Your father has not taken that as well as I would hope. He does not like to look upon his own faults, and whatever transpired between them has seemingly dragged a few of those faults into the light. He did not anticipate your brother's reaction to the news of his true parentage."

"So he wants Loki back in Asgard to alleviate his guilt?" Thor asked.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Frigga said. "Yes, he feels guilty, but he also loves Loki very much. He's hurt by the rejection and has put up defenses of his own. I don't think he yet understands that even if Loki returns and again takes his place as Odin's son, things might still never be the same. While you stay here and work with your brother, I mean to ready your father for Loki's return as well. This will not be an easy reconciliation. They will both need to humble themselves and lower their defenses first, or all our efforts will be in vain. We will lose Loki all over again."

Thor's mouth twitched into a smile, for the situation suddenly appeared laughably impossible. "So essentially you're implying that restoring our family will require something of a miracle."

Frigga returned the smile, equally aware of the hard work ahead of them. "Essentially. Yes."

"Well, then," Thor said with a decisive nod. "Let us begin."

* * *

Before Frigga departed, she entrusted Thor with a small envelope that had Loki's name carefully inscribed upon it in dark gold ink. Judging from the thickness, there was a lengthy letter inside. "For when he's ready to receive it," she explained. "Give your brother my love, and call out to Heimdall if you need me to come. But otherwise, I will not return unless I hear from one of you."

Though the last thing Thor wanted was for his mother to depart, he saw the sense in it and was glad they'd had time to discuss their strategy with Loki and Odin. It helped to have a goal in mind and gave Thor something to fight for. "You will be missed," he said. "I will do my utmost to see your son returned to you soon."

Frigga laughed, and the bittersweet sound made Thor want to embrace her. "Just try not to kill each other," she said with a wink. "Steady and slow wins the race."

Thor accompanied his mother to the roof of the apartment building to see her off but was on edge the entire time, mindful that the tracker was somewhere nearby. Nervousness tingled at the base of Thor's spine, and he stared hard at every corner and shadow in the off-chance that someone was hiding there. He regretted his decision to leave Loki unattended with a hunter on the prowl, particularly with his sei _ð_ r bound and useless. Loki was cunning—but so was the tracker.

Outside, the temperature had plummeted. Thor was not familiar enough with Midgard's weather patterns to know for certain, but he wondered if it might snow. The rain had moved on, but gray clouds still hung heavy overhead, seeming so close that Thor imagined he could reach his hand up and touch them. They were moving south at a rapid pace, blown by the wind. Frigga's dress whipped wildly around her legs.

Once the Bifröst caught his mother up into the sky, Thor wasted no time in returning to the apartment. Goosebumps had sprung up on his arms, and he rubbed at them in an attempt to warm himself. The cramped elevator moved far too slow, and he paced impatiently until at long last, the doors opened with a cheerful _ding_.

Behind the threshold of a neighboring apartment, a dog barked wildly with his nose pressed to the crack beneath the door. Had Frigga not warned Thor about the tracker, he might have thought nothing of the animal's behavior, but now he wondered if the dog had sensed an intruder.

He wished the tracker would reveal his presence. To skulk in the shadows in such a way was the very definition of cowardice, but Thor had spent enough time in his company to know that was his preferred method of hunting. The two of them were no longer allies—now opponents—but he was not afraid. If the tracker thought Thor would permit him to intimidate Loki into returning to Asgard before he was ready, he had another thing coming to him.

Once inside the apartment, Thor locked the door and placed Mjölnir in front of it as an added precaution. He tucked away Frigga's letter for Loki into a drawer for another time and set about warming up some of the broth. His mind was ill at ease, and the solitude was therefore difficult to bear. It was time to wake up his brother.

But when Thor carried the cup of broth to the bedroom, the first thing he saw was the empty bed. The room was still dark, though much colder than it had been when Thor left in the early morning hours. He was surprised to see the balcony doors flung open and Loki seated upon the wood floor in front of them. He wore the same filthy jeans from last night, having ignored the clean clothing hanging in the closet. On his bare shoulder was the intricate pattern of the tracker's mark, which had spread down his arm as well as toward his collarbone. He looked strangely small sitting there.

He was bent over something in concentration, and when Thor drew near, he saw that it was the stack of blank paper from the nightstand—the same paper Thor had seen on the floor of the apartment last night before Frigga had arranged for it to be furnished. The top page was dirty and creased, pinned to the ground with Loki's palm to keep the wind from blowing it away. Loki turned a pen over and over in one hand but had written nothing.

Thor glanced disapprovingly at the balcony doors, thinking it too cold and the wind too volatile to allow them to remain open, but the air that rushed in was refreshing. Thor thought it might do Loki some good, and so he said nothing to dissuade him.

When Thor's shadow fell over him, Loki turned his head without actually looking at him. The pen seemed to tremble in his hand. "Is she gone?"

Thor cleared his throat, not quite certain what to say or do. He wondered how much Loki had overheard of Thor's conversation with Frigga. "Mother left you a letter—and also brought you this." He knelt beside Loki and held out the cup of broth. "Will you eat something? You must be hungry."

Loki blinked at the broth several times, as if not certain why it had suddenly appeared before him. He swallowed once in distaste and then returned his attention to the paper, bringing the pen to his lips.

"Brother, did you hear me? When was the last time you ate?"

Loki shrugged his injured shoulder. "Put it on the nightstand."

Thor had anticipated experiencing difficulty with this part, but that did not make it any less frustrating. It wasn't as if Loki was dying from starvation—just painfully thin. Thor was obviously more distressed over his brother's condition than Loki was. But though this was not a battle Thor planned to give up on so easily, perhaps it was not the right time to push. He placed the cup in front of Loki and settled down on the floor beside him. The breeze blew Thor's hair into his face, prompting him to gather it up into his hands. He began to braid the top half to keep it tamed.

Loki's own hair hung limp, hiding his downcast profile. Thor had never seen it so long or unkempt before. The ends were ragged from inattention. Loki normally did everything in his power to banish the natural tendency of his hair to curl but no longer seemed to care about such things. The black waves softened his appearance but also made him look older. The little boy Thor once knew was nowhere to be seen.

Thor finished braiding his hair and kept it from unraveling by winding a longer strand around the end. "What's that you're writing?"

There was no response. Loki stared at the paper like it held some kind of mystery or problem he couldn't seem to solve.

"Loki," Thor said. He tipped his head down and angled it to the side in order to catch his brother's eye. "Won't you talk to me?" He reached out to sweep Loki's hair away from his face.

"I'm not writing anything," Loki said, jerking his head away before Thor could touch him. "I would think that rather obvious, given the blankness of the page."

"Then what are you trying to write?" Thor asked. "A letter, perhaps?"

"No."

The blunt finality of Loki's response did not invite further conversation. It was as if he was determined to pretend he was still living on his own, choosing to wear his old clothes and sit on the floor instead of seeking out any of the furnishings or comforts Frigga had provided. Thor felt completely shut out—like he could return to Asgard forever without Loki noticing or caring.

Thor was absolutely bewildered by his brother's indifference to him. Their relationship had endured many highs and lows throughout the centuries. They'd shared in just as many fearsome arguments as they had in moments of side-splitting laughter. They were not always the best of friends, but that hardly mattered when they were _brothers_ , which was an unbreakable bond they shared with no other.

It had been much simpler to show Loki affection earlier, when they were bundled up together in bed. No words had been needed to convey how Thor felt, and he liked to think the way Loki had accepted and responded to that meant he wasn't as indifferent as he wanted Thor to think. Perhaps Loki had simply been alone for too long.

Thor reached out once more to touch his brother's hair, and though Loki attempted to evade him yet again, there was only so far he could go. He sighed but held perfectly still as Thor tucked his hair behind his ear, revealing Loki's face to him. The muted light that filtered into the room from the balcony doors made him look like he was carved from marble. Beautiful but lifeless.

"We don't have to talk, brother," Thor said, his fingers still combing through Loki's hair. "I only want you to know that nothing has changed between us. I'm here for you—and always have been if you would but look up and see."

There was an underlying frustration behind the words. He could understand why Loki might be angry with their parents, but why had he fled instead of coming to Thor for help?

However, Loki did not respond as expected to the promise of support. He went perfectly still—and then, after a strange, drawn-out moment, turned to give Thor his full attention for the first time. His green eyes had gone inexplicably cold with fury.

Thor's frustration diminished into concern. He was reminded of their worrisome conversation from the previous night, when Loki had whispered about his desire to see everything burn—including himself.

"You're angry with me," Thor observed.

"How good of you to notice." Loki's voice was surprisingly steady for someone about to cry.

"Brother, I only just found you yesterday," Thor said gently. "You haven't been present for me to notice."

Loki smiled, thin-lipped and tight. "This did not happen _yesterday_."

Thor leaned in closer and brought his hand to rest on the base of Loki's neck. His skin was ice cold from sitting too long in front of the open doors. "Tell me what I've done," Thor said with unwavering patience, "and I will make amends. Brother, if I've hurt you or let you down in the past, know that I am truly sorry. I had no idea what mother and father were hiding from you and would have told you if I had known. The truth changes nothing between us. I am your brother, and I want you to let me support you in this."

"I don't want to make amends, Thor. I don't want you here at all." Loki squeezed his eyes shut but leaned ever so slightly in his brother's direction. "I am _done_."

Thor pulled him closer and rested his head against Loki's, encouraging that connection. "Then why are you leaning into my touch?"

Loki took in a shuddering breath, but though his body was full of tension, he didn't resist when Thor enveloped him in a hug. Loki's head fit perfectly into the nook beneath Thor's chin. As relieved as Thor was to finally find his brother, it occurred to him for the first time that Loki was also relieved to be found. He pressed his face against Thor's chest like he had been the one searching endlessly for his brother instead of the one running.

"When are you taking me back to Asgard?" Loki asked. His breaths were coming fast, as if he was on the verge of panicking.

"Shhh." Thor covered Loki's head with the palm of his hand, hoping to make him feel protected. "That is yet to be decided. I mean to keep you on Midgard as long as I'm able."

"And what does that mean? That could be five minutes from now."

"It means I'm on your side. You aren't in any condition to travel, and if anyone attempts to force you, I will stop them."

"Is that why I was hunted down and trapped—to say nothing of the painful binding of my magic—because you're 'on my side'?" Loki pushed away from Thor and got to his feet.

Thor stared up at his brother with mounting wariness. Loki's eyes were wild—like he wasn't thinking properly or was reacting only out of fear. "I _searched_ for you, brother," Thor said. "There was no hunt, and you aren't trapped. It wasn't me who bound your . . . Loki, where are you going?"

Loki didn't respond. He had already swept out of the bedroom, prompting Thor to sigh in exasperation and follow. When he caught up with Loki in the living room, he found him staring at Mjölnir like it was a bomb set to explode. Loki turned to level a glare at his brother. "What's that you said about me not being trapped?"

"I didn't place Mjölnir in front of the door to keep you locked in," Thor said. "It's meant to keep the tracker _out_. He's the one who bound your magic and did that to your shoulder and leg." He pointed at the mark on Loki's skin. "He's out there somewhere, and I don't want him anywhere near you."

Loki hoisted his chin, looking as if he didn't know quite what to do with that information. "You said last night that the All-Father hired him."

"Yes, to _find you—_ not bring you to harm. Loki, you vanished without a word. We feared something terrible had befallen you."

"Well, here I am," Loki said, waving his hands in the air sardonically. "Everything terrible that's happened began with your arrival. I don't need you here, Thor." He gestured around at all the comforts Frigga had brought. "I never asked for any of this. I was doing just fine on my own."

"You are our family," Thor said. "You don't have to ask. Brother, please try to calm down."

Which was perhaps the wrong thing to say, for it prompted Loki to march forward and shout "I'm not your brother!" right in Thor's face.

But as soon as Loki said the words, the fight drained out of him—along with all the blood in his face. He sank downward and sat on the floor where he'd been standing. Thor knelt beside him and placed a hand on the back of Loki's neck. His skin felt clammy and cold, and Loki put his face in his hands like the room was spinning.

"You're unwell," Thor said. "I want you to eat something."

"And I want you to leave," Loki muttered into his palms.

"I'm sorry, but that's not going to happen."

"Then _I_ want to leave."

Thor's eyes drifted shut momentarily. "Very well. Drink the cup of broth I brought you, and I'll unblock the door. You can walk in or out anytime you like."

"And I suppose you have no intention of following."

A slight smile touched Thor's eyes. "Look at it this way. If you start taking better care of yourself, you'll soon have enough strength to evade me."

Loki sighed. "Your methods of persuasion need some improvement. You should have started there if you wanted me to eat." Very carefully, he unfolded his legs and eased himself up onto his feet.

Thor grabbed hold of his brother's arm to steady him and didn't let go until he was convinced Loki wouldn't fall right back down again. It was evidence of his weakness that he didn't put up a fuss. Thor followed his brother into the bedroom and fetched the cup of broth for him from the floor after Loki had stared down at it as if it was impossible to reach.

Loki sat on the edge of the bed and accepted the cup from Thor, who stood over him to wait. But when Loki lifted the cup to his lips, he immediately lowered it again without drinking. He drew in a deep breath and let it out deliberately like he thought he might be ill.

"Take it slow," Thor said. "No one's rushing you."

"Oh, yes," Loki said. "When you were wrestling me into submission last night on the train, I felt the patience simply _oozing_ out of you."

"I apologize if I hurt you. My only intention here is to see you restored. Loki, you cannot enjoy feeling this way."

"And yet feeling like this is the only thing preventing me from being dragged back to Asgard. I do believe I can handle it, but thank you for your concern."

"One cup of broth is not enough to ready you for that journey. Please, brother. Do it for me."

Loki opened his eyes to stare down at the cup. "You're not my brother," he said.

"You keep saying that, but it doesn't mean I no longer see you as _my_ brother. There is nothing you can say or do to change that."

The side of Loki's mouth pulled into a smirk. "Oh? Is that a challenge? I have a mind to make you regret those words."

"Loki." Thor leaned down and cupped his brother's face in his hands. "Drink the broth. Please."

A mixture of emotions flashed across Loki's features. At first Thor saw anger, but then it changed into something hopelessly sad. Almost longing. A heartbeat later, the indifference had returned. "You will remove Mjölnir and not otherwise prevent me from leaving?" Loki asked, his tone flat.

"I swear it," Thor said, "though I pray you won't."

When Loki took an obedient sip of the broth, Thor's face split into a delighted grin. When he pulled his brother in and planted a celebratory kiss to his forehead, Loki made a sound of disgust and pushed at Thor's chest until he let go. Thor's smile faded when he realized Loki had again gone pale. He hung his head down and covered his mouth. The broth had made him sick.

Thor sat beside his brother on the bed and rubbed the center of his back. Loki's entire body was shaking. "Easy," Thor said. "Let it settle. The next sip will be easier."

Loki groaned at the prospect of having to drink any more. "I think I might like to kill you."

"Keep drinking, and you'll have a better chance of succeeding."

Loki let out a breathless chuckle. "Now you're getting it. How quickly your bartering techniques have improved." After taking a moment to steel himself, he took another drink, and though his body continued to quake, he appeared to stomach the second attempt better. A third of the broth was now gone.

"Thank you, brother," Thor said. He squeezed Loki's uninjured shoulder before getting to his feet. He left the bedroom and soon returned with Mjölnir, which he set down on the bedroom floor. "It's done. You're free."

Loki looked up at him, and Thor's heart tugged painfully when he registered the deep well of unhappiness in his brother's eyes. "Is that what I am?" Loki whispered.

"Not when you have people who care about you, no," Thor said. "You can run all you like, brother, but that will not prevent me from following. I love you far too much to ever stop."

Loki held Thor's gaze, looking all the while like he wanted to again press the point that they weren't brothers by blood. But eventually his vision seemed to go out of focus, and then he looked at the floor instead. The wind had scattered the blank pages all around, and as they blew past Thor's legs, Loki drank the remainder of his broth in silence.

* * *

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is teeming with symbolism for those who have an interest in that sort of thing. Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed, and I'd love to hear from you if you have a few moments. Take care!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you don't mind, but this chapter is a bit shorter than what I normally post. I've had some recent struggles with writer's block and hope posting something small might help me get back in the groove. I might be going for this length more often, which I also did in the early chapters of _Bargaining_ to help me gain momentum before diving into the main plotline. (Which, by the way, we haven't yet hit in this story. Have I mentioned this one is going to be long?)
> 
> Have I also mentioned I wrote this for sheilatakesabow, who is the biggest sweetheart ever? You should [follow her on tumblr](http://sheilatakesabow.tumblr.com/).

Chapter Four

_When Thor reclaimed Mjölnir and vanished from Midgard without warning, Loki was not surprised. Though he did not know the precise reasoning behind his brother's sudden departure, it was a simple enough matter to fill in the blanks._

_Less than a week had passed since the All-Father had stripped his first-born of his powers and banished him to a mortal realm. But from the moment Loki uncovered the truth of his origins, he knew Thor's punishment would not endure. Asgard could not be left without an heir, and there was but one true son of Odin._

_This realization left Loki in an absolute daze—without purpose or identity. His mind was paralyzed by betrayal he was still struggling to understand. Without Thor, there was no reason to stay on Midgard, but Loki lingered there in the desert all the same. After all, where else did he have to go?_

_At times, he observed Jane Foster from afar. Though she didn't seem particularly affected by Thor's disappearance, her smiles were sometimes strained, bordering on sadness. At night, she sat by herself and watched the stars. Loki found her quiet struggle with disappointment strangely soothing. There was something comforting in the knowledge that another understood what it felt like to be touched by the sun and then left behind in the cold._

_He wanted nothing more than to banish the memory of warmth from his mind. But numbness, he came to learn, was not an easy thing to attain._

* * *

Over the next two days, Thor became painfully aware of how little he understood about his brother. It was like an impenetrable fog existed between them, and neither could fully see the other.

There were certain things he learned not to discuss—at least for the present. The first and most important was the All-Father, for any mention of him caused Loki to shut down entirely. Other topics to avoid were Frigga, Asgard, Jötunheim, and whatever incident had driven Loki away from his family in the first place. He refused to speak about any of it.

Left with little choice, Thor concentrated on his brother's physical recovery before worrying about anything deeper. As long as there was no discussion about forbidden subjects, Loki tolerated Thor's attempts to take care of him, seemingly too tired to argue when coaxed to sip from a cup of broth or submit to another application of Frigga's healing ointment. He slept a great deal, and though he didn't protest when Thor held him at night, it was impossible to ignore the tension that took up residence in Loki's body and persisted until he fell asleep. He might be submitting to Thor's affection, but Loki was still resisting it in his heart.

Still, there were moments that gave Thor hope.

One morning, he awoke to a strange sound. He opened his eyes to see Loki sitting in his usual place on the floor before the open balcony doors, shirtless and shivering with his hair blowing in the icy breeze. It was his daily ritual to do this, and Thor had not yet been able to determine why. Now he had his first clue.

A small cat with iron-gray fur had jumped down onto the balcony from the apartment above. The sound Thor had heard was her tentative meow. She rubbed her chin against the doorway and eyed both the brothers in turn, staying just out of arm's reach until she made up her mind about them. She seemed familiar with Loki, but her large, mahogany eyes were guarded as she took in Thor. He rose from bed slowly so as not to startle her, and she tiptoed toward Loki once she decided it was safe.

"Friend of yours?" Thor asked.

Loki turned his head in acknowledgement of his brother, but he didn't respond. His eyes were almost colorless in the morning light, and his breath froze in the air before dissipating in a patch of sunlight at his feet. He set a pen down on the floor and stretched out his fingers for the cat to smell.

Thor fetched a dish of milk from the kitchen and placed it on the ground near the balcony. The cat, who had been busy flirting with Loki and begging for a thorough petting session, hurried over to the dish. After a speculative sniff, she began lapping up the milk.

"I've been wondering why you keep opening the doors," Thor said. "At long last, the mystery is solved."

At least, he hoped it was. There was a far more worrisome explanation that had troubled Thor since his arrival.

He glanced at his brother warily, hoping those suspicions were wrong, but was distracted by the loose sheets of paper on the ground. Something was written on the top page, and curiosity inspired Thor to draw closer. There in the upper right-hand corner, Loki had printed a single word in his concise handwriting:

_cold_

The word looked lonely there by itself on the page, but Thor was too lethargic to give much thought to why his brother had written such a strange thing. He merely reacted to it as if Loki had spoken the word out loud.

Thor pulled the blanket free from the bed and wrapped it around his brother's shoulders. Then, with a great yawn, he settled onto the ground and pulled Loki close so that his back was resting against Thor's chest.

"Is that better?" he asked, his lips against Loki's cheek as he tucked in the edges of the blanket to ensure his brother would no longer be cold.

Thor was still half asleep but fully aware of how good it felt to press his mouth there. Though Loki's skin was like ice, he warmed quickly. It was because of Frigga's encouragement that Thor had striven to shower his brother with physical affection, but now that he had started, he found himself reaching for Loki more and more often.

When they weren't touching, Thor was thinking about the times they had—such as the way his brother's head fit so securely beneath Thor's chin or how Loki's indifference melted into sweetness right before he fell asleep. Thor might be doing this for his brother's sake, but his own relief at finding Loki manifested in moments like these. In truth, they both needed this connection.

Thor's hands felt restless unless a point of physical contact was established between them. Even now, with his lips against Loki's skin, their shared warmth barely satisfied Thor's longing for closeness.

He smiled when Loki sighed and leaned into his touch. _There_ , Thor thought. That was what he wanted. Such a simple thing, but it meant the world to have Loki accept his affection and return it in kind. As long as they had this, they might last long enough to figure out everything else.

Loki's stomach chose that moment to let out a fearsome growl, and the cat's head popped up. Her chin was wet with milk, and her ears were pointed backwards in alarm. Thor's smile gave way to a chuckle. Hunger was a good sign that Loki's body was at long last waking up and demanding he take better care of it. It was like he'd been hibernating.

"Shall we find you something to eat?" Thor asked. "I think it high time you attempted real food instead of broth."

Loki tensed up, but he didn't pull away. "I'm not hungry."

"It's likely half of Midgard heard your stomach just now. Come on. There is plenty to eat in the kitchen. Even your little mistress over there has broken her fast."

They watched the cat return to her meal, though her ears were still pointed backwards to allow her to monitor any suspicious activity.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Loki asked.

The quiet desperation in his brother's voice made Thor pause before responding. It was one of those times when he suspected something was going on in Loki's head that was entirely different from what Thor perceived to be happening. How he wished Loki's moods were easier to decipher.

Thor's hand moved to his brother's stomach, which had let out another grumble of hunger. The tips of his fingers slipped beneath the folds of the blanket and found the heat of Loki's skin.

"What have I done?" Thor asked. "I'm trying so hard to understand but struggle with things left unspoken. That was always your talent. Brother, why are you so angry with me?"

The moment was surprising in its intimacy—with Thor's fingers brushing against Loki's bare stomach and his lips still so close to his little brother's mouth. A small voice in the back of Thor's head asked him what he thought he was doing, but he ignored it. This was what Loki responded to, and Thor found too much comfort in it himself to care about the implications.

The pace of Loki's breathing began to quicken, like he was deciding whether or not to put up a fight. And yet he still had not moved away. If anything, he leaned into Thor's touch all the more until they were practically molded together.

"The fact that you don't already know only makes me angrier," Loki said.

"You assume I'm as perceptive as you and comprehend all you don't say. I am not as ill-meaning as you seem to imagine. You've always thought me stupid. Talk to me plainly, then."

"You aren't stupid, Thor. You're senseless, which is quite possibly worse."

"Is there a difference?"

Loki snorted. "You have a splendid mind, but you refuse to put it to use. You allow your temperament to overrule your common sense. I've told you this before. I've told you many things before, and yet you repeatedly fail to listen. Why should I continue to waste my breath on you?"

"Brother, please just tell me what I've done. How else can I attempt to—?"

"I was _fine_ ," Loki snapped, cutting him off. "I was numb and had finally gotten to a place where I didn't care about any of it. And now . . . ." He shook his head, as if the continuation of that sentence was unacceptable. "Damn you, Thor. You have to take everything away from me, don't you?"

Loki snatched the pen off the floor. After uncapping it, he scribbled out what he had written on the paper and then tossed the pen away angrily. The cat trotted over to where it rolled and gave the pen a good sniff to make sure it wasn't a threat. When she straightened, she meowed at Loki and sat on her back haunches to stare at him.

She wasn't the only one bewildered by Loki's behavior. Thor hadn't followed his brother's thought process in the slightest. What had he taken away from Loki except everything that was hurting him? Bruises, loneliness, cold. Weren't these good things to leave behind? But Frigga had warned Thor away from dismissing things he didn't understand. Whatever was going through Loki's mind, the struggle was real for him.

"Keep talking," Thor said. "I'm listening."

"There is nothing else to say," Loki muttered. He was leaning forward now, as far away from Thor as he could manage without actually moving to sit somewhere else.

Thor stared at the defeated set of his brother's shoulders. "I don't believe that. You have pain written all over you. How can I help alleviate your suffering if I don't understand what is at the heart of it? I need you to talk to me."

Loki turned his head to glare back at Thor. "Do you think this was caused by a solitary event? You're asking me to put centuries of experiences into a single conversation. There is _too much_ , Thor. I can't. Do you understand? I can't say it all." He dashed the papers aside, scattering them every which way and inspiring the cat to make a break for the living room. "Nor should I have to. Why did it take _this_ for you to notice something was wrong? You were there for _all of it_. Why must I explain what you should already know?"

Thor held out both his palms in a gesture of submission, hoping to calm Loki down. "I understand. This is the reason you're angry, then—because I failed to notice."

Loki laughed and started crying at the same time. "That is but scratching the surface. You really have no idea what it's like living in your shadow, do you? Having you here is like being caught in the gravitational pull of a star. There's nothing in all the Nine Realms like being the center of your universe. And nothing worse than being cast out of it. I hate you, Thor. I hate you so much because you make me love you, and then you leave me behind. What you're doing to me right now is cruel because it just makes me hunger for more. You will lose interest soon enough, and then I will be left to crater in your absence."

Thor blinked in surprise in the wake of this accusation. It wasn't accurate, of course, but again, he hesitated before dismissing it outright—for at the very heart of it was a grain of truth.

"I am guilty of taking you for granted," Thor admitted. "It was foolish to assume you would always be there. Forgive me. There are certain things that are irreplaceable, and you are one of them. I know these words mean little to you without actions to support them. And so I swear to you, brother—I will not leave you again."

Loki wiped at the moisture on his cheeks. "I am not your brother."

"Of course, you are."

Unable to stand the lost look on Loki's face anymore, Thor pulled him close again, for that was the purest demonstration of his love he could think of. Words never seemed to be enough.

His palm was now flattened on Loki's stomach, which growled against the pressure of Thor's hand. He pressed a kiss to the corner of his little brother's mouth, lingering there so long that Loki let out a slow breath and melted against him. His tears slowed, and soon, every ounce of tension in his body was gone.

Something nearly imperceptible shifted between them in that moment. It was an acknowledgement of a subtle tension that had existed between them for centuries now. There was a part of Thor that wished Loki hadn't responded to his kiss like that. And another part that longed to hear his brother make that sound again.

They stayed there like that for a long time, until at last, Thor stirred and said, "Come on. I want you to eat something. It's time to wake up and start caring for yourself again."

Held like this, Loki would be able to feel and taste Thor's words just as much as he heard them—vibrating against his back, warming his mouth.

Loki licked his lips. "In a minute," he said. Beneath the blanket, his hand closed over Thor's to keep it secured there. "I'm too warm to move."

* * *

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this one might have been short, but at least I gave you snuggles and a kiss, amirite? I'll do my best to have the next chapter up soon.
> 
> By the way, the breed of the cat is a blue British Shorthair. I'm telling you that directly since you can't expect an Asgardian narrator to know that himself. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Among Jane Foster's professional associates was a gentlemen by the name of Dr. Erik Selvig._

_Loki's attention first honed in on the human because of his knowledge of Thor and the strange Midgardian myths that existed concerning the gods of Asgard. However, this was not why Loki chose to follow Dr. Selvig when he parted ways with Jane Foster._

_Men in suits had come for Dr. Selvig, requesting his assistance in studying and harnessing an unknown source of great power._

_That, Loki thought, was certainly worth a look._

* * *

Thor and Loki decided to leave the apartment in search of food, for Loki eyed every morsel Frigga had brought from Asgard with distaste bordering on anger.

It wasn't only the food he rejected. He also refused to touch the furniture in the living room, choosing instead to wait for his brother in the cramped foyer. He still wore the same clothing he'd been found in, though Thor had managed to wash the faded jeans and t-shirt the day before while Loki slept.

Thor thought he might understand the root cause of Loki's stubbornness—that he wanted nothing to do with items gifted to him by Asgard's king or queen, who had lied to him for so many centuries—but that didn't make it any less frustrating to witness. It was obvious Loki was uncomfortable, but he refused to give in. It was like he saw strings attached to Frigga's gifts and did not want to run the risk of becoming entangled in them.

"It's cold outside. Put this on." Thor held out a knee-length wool coat to his brother. "It will be our secret. I'll make certain to tell our mother you in no way accepted even a hint of her kindness."

Loki rolled his eyes, snatched the coat away, and stalked off toward the elevator.

Before following, Thor turned to acknowledge the cat, who was lounging on the cushions of the sofa and busy grooming herself. "Noble creature," Thor said, "I charge you with the defense of this household."

The cat ignored him and continued to luxuriate in the act of licking her paws. A bit puzzled over the lack of response, Thor finally gave up and left.

In the elevator, he asked, "Does the creature have a name?"

"How should I know?" Loki muttered, his arms crossed and eyes staring straight ahead. "It doesn't speak."

Thor frowned as he considered this. "Midgard is a strange place."

Outside on the city sidewalks, people passed along like an endlessly flowing river. Everything was cast in shadows from the tall buildings all around them, but the sky above was a clear, brilliant blue. It was pleasantly cold, though when they encountered a patch of sunlight, the temperature rose to such a degree that Thor almost regretted wearing a coat. It felt like winter and spring were battling for position.

There was trash on the ground, the maddening sound of honking in the air, and exhaust from the backed-up traffic made it difficult to breathe. However, Thor took in his surroundings with growing excitement. Though he had journeyed to this realm before, he had never encountered a Midgardian city of this size.

He placed a companionable hand on his brother's shoulder as they joined the flow of foot traffic. "It is amazing how much Midgard has grown," Thor said, having to speak up to be heard over the din. "Though I still wonder why you chose to come here. I never thought you cared much for this realm."

Loki buried his hands in his coat pockets and appeared ill at ease with so many people around them. He had never enjoyed being in or near a crowd, which made his decision to come to New York City all the more curious.

"I had my reasons," he said.

"Which are?"

"None of your concern."

Despite Loki's mood, Thor had difficulty fighting a smile. He was relieved to be out and about with his brother at his side. "I will take your willingness to banter as a sign of your strength returning to you. Now where would you like to go? It appears we have an endless supply of choices before us. What sounds appealing to you?"

"Sleep," Loki said without hesitation.

"Besides that."

"Setting you on fire."

Thor squeezed Loki's shoulder with affection he could barely contain. How good it felt to have him back and acting more like himself every day. "I think you will enjoy a Midgardian breakfast. They do the most absurd things with leavened bread."

"You act as though I've only just arrived." Loki looked to his left and right before they crossed a street. "I do not require a tour."

Thor's smile wavered as he considered this, and his hand slid from Loki's shoulder to the back of his neck. "Have you been living here by yourself the entire year you've been missing?"

The idea of his brother in that apartment for so long—with no electricity, water, furniture, or companionship—made it suddenly difficult to breathe.

As Loki turned to glare at his brother, his eyes were a startling shade of green in the rare glimpses of sunlight. When they again stepped into shadow, he looked as cold, lifeless, and beautiful as winter itself. "Do not presume to know where I've been unless I decide to tell you. You don't know the half of it."

"So explain it to me," Thor said.

Loki pressed his lips together and pushed onward without responding.

* * *

"Hot chocolate," Loki told the waitress. "Made with _steamed milk_. I will know if you attempt to deceive me with hot water, so please do not underestimate the discernment of my palette. If made to my specifications, I will see you are well compensated for your trouble."

They had found a small dining establishment serving breakfast a few blocks from the apartment. There were only a handful of tables, and the floor could have been cleaner—but it had the same humble charm as the diner Thor remembered from New Mexico. The smell of the food was so impossible to resist that even Loki had consented to enter without putting up a fuss.

The waitress, whose hair could not possibly be that shade of red in its natural state, tapped a pen on a pad of paper without writing anything down. Her eyes shifted from Loki to Thor.

"I'll have coffee," Thor said. "And also the, um . . ." He glanced down at his menu. ". . . Mama's Mean Migas. Brother, what do you care to eat? You cannot order only a drink."

Loki sighed. "I suppose I will partake of a Belgian Waffle. With strawberries and that white powdered substance that gets everywhere."

Thor handed his menu to the waitress with a smile. "Add to that a serving of protein, and you will have my thanks."

"Side of bacon it is," the waitress said and left without further commentary.

Amused by the woman's brusqueness, Thor turned to his brother with a grin. "A cheerful establishment, to be sure."

"Careful," Loki said. "They'll spit in your food or worse if they sense a sardonic turn of phrase. Better to purchase their favor with promise of currency."

"You continue to surprise me with your knowledge of this realm. Considering the initial state of your living quarters, I thought your stay here had only been brief."

Loki's jaw worked as he ground his teeth together. "You aren't going to give up until I explain, are you?"

"Now when have you ever known me to surrender?"

"A valid point, though I wonder if you realize that isn't always a positive trait. The answer you seek is that I have not lived in my current situation for more than a few weeks. It was a far simpler matter to move around and secure food and lodging before my seiðr was bound. I'm sure it pleases you, along with your king and queen, to have rendered me incapable of providing for myself without Asgard's assistance."

Thor fell silent as the waitress came to deliver their drinks. As he stared down at his mug of coffee, he imagined his brother using illusions to steal food and find a place to lay his head for the night. "It does not please me at all. I did not sanction the binding of your magic, nor would I have allowed the tracker to touch you had I known what his intentions were."

"Then remove it," Loki said. "Find a way to break the binding and restore my seiðr to me."

Thor did not respond to this at first. He lifted the coffee to his lips and blew away the steam without tasting it. To restore Loki's magic would enable him to again run away. Though Thor would not have done such a thing to his brother, he would be lying if he said he had not enjoyed the advantages of it. This realization made him feel dishonorable.

"You know that is not within my power," Thor said, "though if it were, I would do it—to restore the trust between us, if nothing else. It would take another practitioner to perform such a feat. Either of our parents could do it, no doubt."

"How strange that the king and queen have not offered," Loki deadpanned. "And what of this tracker you've made mention of? He is obviously educated in the arts."

A chill went down Thor's back. He sipped his coffee and said, "I know not where he is."

"So I am no doubt to be made to stand before the All-Father before my powers are returned to me. And even then, there's no promise of it." Though Loki's words were bitterly spoken, the wavering of his voice revealed how terrified he was.

"Brother, we will figure this out." Thor set his cup down and reached to cover Loki's hand with his own. It felt like such an inadequate connection when what Thor really wanted to do was haul his little brother to his chest and hold him until that frightened look on his face was quelled. "Were I to find some way to restore your magic, what would you consent to?"

Loki's eyebrows pulled together in the middle. Though his stare was undiscernible, color came to stain his cheeks. He didn't pull his hand away.

Thor was at first puzzled by his brother's reaction, but when he sensed the subtle shift in the mood and how his words could have been interpreted, his face felt flushed as well. Loki's hand was so wonderfully warm beneath Thor's that his mind filled with images of further exploration. He wanted to slide his fingers up the sleeve of Loki's coat.

There was a small voice in his head that whispered encouragement to him—and another that told him to change the subject.

"What I mean is, what reassurances do I have that you would not simply leave?" Thor clarified. "I want to trust you, but I also don't want to lose you again."

Loki blinked several times and then looked away.

"If I work to free you from this binding spell, will you promise me you will remain at my side?" Thor said. "Likewise, I will give you assurances that we will not return to Asgard until you are ready."

"And who is to be the judge of my readiness?" Loki asked. Though his voice was quiet and even, it was apparent he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Thor wasn't certain how to answer this. Odin could see them from Hliðskjálf, his high throne from which he could watch over the Nine Realms. And then there was Heimdall, who was no doubt charged with monitoring the brothers from his post. Third, there was the tracker, whom Thor was aware of, though he felt Loki was not fully appreciative of the obstacle that presented. He had not journeyed for months at the tracker's side the way Thor had.

Many eyes were on Loki, and in turn, on Thor as well. He felt a pang of worry when he considered how open he'd been with his affection for his brother. While it didn't bother him in the slightest and Loki was obviously receptive, it was not something Thor desired others to see. They would not understand, and those moments were meant to be private.

It occurred to Thor that if Loki's seiðr was restored, they could avoid that unwanted attention.

After Loki had fled Asgard, Heimdall had admitted his suspicions that the lost prince was able to conceal himself from the watchman's gaze. This was confirmed over the next year, when no sign of him could be found. It also gave them hope that he was alive, for a dead man could not evade Heimdall. Now that Loki's seiðr was bound, it was apparent that he was now aware of those watching him. His posture was slumped, and he let his hair fall in front of his face so as not to be seen.

"You have been entrusted to my care," Thor said. "I think it is my decision, which is why you needn't worry."

"You think it is or know for certain?" Loki said. "I will not go back there, Thor, and if you or anyone else forces me, I will find a way out. You might not like the lengths I would be willing to go to achieve that end."

"Thank you for the warning. I will bear it in mind. Though you must know I would never force you to do something you don't want to."

"You mean except for eating, showering, combing my hair, riding the subway in peace . . . ?"

Thor smiled. "Yes. Except for those things." As they spoke, their fingers slid and played together, both of them enjoying the friction too much to stop and think about what they were doing. "I only want what's best for you, brother. If I force you to do something, it's only to stop you from hurting yourself. I acknowledge our friendship has not been right for some time, but I will rectify that if you will allow me to. And when we do return to Asgard, we will do it together. Your strength will be returned to you, and your chin will be held high."

Loki was already shaking his head before Thor even finished. Though their fingers were still entangled, Loki was beginning to shift in his seat like he was growing more and more agitated. "I will not go back."

"You won't even come home for me?" Thor asked gently.

"Why do you need me there?" Loki's eyes were wide with a mixture of incredulity and near panic, as though he'd been backed into a corner and had yet to discover a way out. "Why is it so important that I return? I tell you I am finished with you all, and yet you cling to me still. Do not say it is because we are brothers, for you now know that is not true."

Thor tightened his hold on Loki's hand. "I do not need you in Asgard. I need you at my side because _I love you_."

The words were loud enough to cause a hush to fall over the restaurant. Chatter ceased, as did the scrape and clank of silverware on plates. More than a few eyes turned in their direction.

At the table in front of them, a little girl asked, "Mommy, are those two guys over there getting married?"

And yet through all this unwanted attention, the brothers did not break eye contact. Thor slid his hand upward until it closed over Loki's wrist. As the noise of the restaurant slowly began to return to normal, Thor rubbed his thumb over the place where his brother's pulse beat. "I love you," he said again, quieter this time. "And wherever you are, be it on Midgard or Asgard, that is where I want to be. Whether or not you accept that I see you as my brother, you cannot deny my feelings for you."

Loki stared at him, unblinking, until his eyes filled with tears. There was a wariness in his gaze—but also something so incredibly vulnerable that Thor felt an ache in his chest, just observing it. What had _happened_ to Loki over the last year?

As Loki looked at the table, tears spilled down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his free hand as if they shamed him. "I don't understand why you would say such things, knowing what I truly am."

Thor's lips parted. "Brother . . . ."

"Pardon me." Loki pulled his hand away and got to his feet.

Realizing his brother meant to leave, Thor rose as well. After delving into his pocket, he dropped some Midgardian money on the table. "Keep those warm, please," he said to the waitress, who had come to deliver their food. "We will return."

The waitress watched as Loki stormed out of the front entrance, still wiping tears from his face. "It's not because I made his hot chocolate with water instead of milk, is it?" she called after them.

Outside, Thor was forced to jog down the sidewalk and weave through pedestrians in order to catch up. "Loki—brother, _wait_."

But Loki did not stop until one of the passing storefronts distracted him. He came to an abrupt halt and stared through a window, oblivious to the passersby giving him dirty looks for stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

When Thor managed to catch up, he found Loki staring at a store display of Midgardian televisions. On every screen was the same newscast, which showed images of a desert landscape marred by a large crater. Smoke poured into the air, evidence that whatever was at the bottom of the hole was little more than smoldering wreckage. The scrolling text at the bottom read: _New Mexico disaster still unexplained. Ground swallows remote research facility whole. Confirmed fatalities_.

Loki gazed at the screen with his lips parted in dismay as if he couldn't believe or make sense of the words. When Thor grasped his brother's shoulder and turned him around, Loki looked up at him with a startled expression. It was like he'd forgotten he wasn't alone or like Thor had caught him doing something wrong. His nose and eyes were red from crying.

"Why did you run off like that?" Thor asked. "Our meal is waiting."

Loki glanced back at the window display. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Thor ran a hand back through his hair, half-tempted to tug at it in frustration. Were they really back to this place again? Hoping for a bit of privacy, he grasped Loki by the crook of his elbow and guided him into an alleyway between buildings. There were bins of trash lining the brick walls, and a column of steam rose into the air from a grate fitted into the pavement.

"Yes, you are," Thor said when they were alone. "Loki, we've talked about this. You must begin to care for yourself once more."

Loki heaved an irritated sigh. "You don't understand. I literally feel sick inside. My throat is closed up, and my stomach is in knots. I don't want to eat because I _can't_."

"You were fine ten minutes ago," Thor said, striving to keep his voice calm. "Tell me what this is about."

"How?" Loki snapped. "There's too _much_ , Thor. How many times must I say it? There's too damn much, and I can't . . . I can't do this here with you anymore."

Thor had pulled Loki close while he was still speaking. Wrapping his brother up in his embrace, Thor covered the crown of Loki's head with the palm of his hand, hoping to make him feel protected and less like he was flying apart. "Shhh," Thor whispered, nuzzling the tender flesh near Loki's ear. "Calm down. You're all right."

"No, I am _not_. Nothing will ever be all right again."

"That is untrue. You and I are standing here together after months apart, and that seems very right to me. You are overwhelmed. Just breathe. I promise I will take care of anything else that might befall you if you just focus on that one thing. Breathe, Loki."

Loki had grasped handfuls of his brother's shirt and hid his face in the crook of Thor's neck. "This can't be fixed. I've tried to sort it out on my own, but I don't know what to do anymore."

Thor rubbed little circles against the small of Loki's back. "What can't be fixed?"

" _What I am_ ," Loki wept. "How can you even stand being near me? I am a monster."

Thor squeezed his eyes shut.

How he wished he could turn back the hands of time, confront his younger self, and beat some sense into him. How many times had he joked with his brother about the shame of the frost giants? From the early days of their youth, they had openly mocked and derided the Jötnar. The last time Thor had seen Loki before he fled from Asgard, they had just returned from Jötunheim, where Thor had attacked their race with both words and actions.

"You are not a monster." Thor sighed, his heart heavy with regret. "Though I might be for making you feel this way. How you must hate me. Forgive me, brother."

"For what?" Loki laughed bitterly. "Apologies won't fix what I am."

"There is nothing to _fix_. I am the one who needs to change—not you. All you need to worry about is healing."

Loki barked another laugh and pushed at Thor's chest until he was released. "Norns," Loki muttered as he wiped at the moisture on his face. "What happened to turn you so soft?" He sneered. "A woman, perhaps?"

Thor narrowed his eyes, barely understanding the question. "What happened is that my little brother disappeared. Do you truly think I care for you so little? Is that why I spent nearly a year combing the Nine Realms and beyond for any sign of you, fearing all the while that you were dead? Do you have any idea how frantic I've been?"

He stopped there, for some of the anger inside of him had started to leak out. While Thor was furious with Loki for running away, now was not the right time to confront him. There were more important things to deal with first—like reestablishing the trust between them. Without that foundation, there was no telling how Loki would handle any form of criticism.

"If you sense a difference in me," Thor said, "it is because I felt what it was like not to have you and despised every second of it. It made me ask myself why you left. Loki, you once told me to never doubt that you love me, and I choose to believe that. Can you find a way to believe it of me as well? I love you, brother. If you can accept that and trust in me, we can begin to rebuild our family again—even if that family only consists of the two of us for the time being."

How sad Loki appeared, with his searching eyes and hungry expression. It was like he craved every word Thor spoke yet was too afraid to accept them.

"I'm sorry," Loki said after a long pause. "I've taken out my anger on you, though I know this isn't your fault. You were lied to just as I was. I have wished pain upon you in the past. I _wanted_ you to feel my loss and mourn for me, though I thought it would feel more satisfying than it does." His gaze fell to the dirty pavement at their feet. "I'm sorry, brother. I wish you would just let me go. It would be easier on us both."

Despite Loki's final statement, Thor couldn't help but smile. Hope swelled in his heart, for Loki had just called him _brother_ for the first time in a year. "I will never let you go," Thor said.

Loki smiled as well, but there was nothing happy about it. Though he had stopped crying, his eyes were still red, and he appeared ever on the brink of tears. He hugged himself and replied, "I believe you."

"I am glad to hear it. Everything will be all right if we stick together. We have much still to work through, but we will take one step at a time until we succeed. We will start with a hot meal, and afterwards, walk the city to clear your mind. We can talk more then."

With his arm around his brother's shoulders, Thor guided Loki back to the restaurant and was somewhat surprised when he met with no resistance. When they entered, a few of the patrons who had witnessed Loki's tearful exit turned in their seats and cheered. The waitress had left their food on their table, untouched and waiting for them to return.

Loki threw his coat on his chair and said, "I wish to splash water on my face." He slipped away to find the bathrooms without saying anything else.

Thor frowned as he watched his brother head for the back hallway of the restaurant. After removing his own coat, he glanced at the fine meal. Catching the eye of the waitress, he lifted a hand of thanks to her for keeping their table reserved for them during their brief absence.

Before hanging his coat on the back of his chair, Thor slipped his hand into the right pocket, where he had tucked away some of the Midgardian currency Frigga had left for them.

He wasn't certain why he felt the need to check, but his heart had already sunk to the floor by the time he discovered that the pocket was empty. He checked the others to be certain but soon confirmed the money was indeed gone. It wasn't difficult to imagine Loki stealing it from his pockets while they embraced.

Thor was in motion at once, following after his brother to the back of the restaurant. There was a short hallway with two doors on one side and a third positioned at the rear. He spared only the briefest of glances into the bathrooms, and finding them empty, moved with haste toward that final door.

It opened up into an empty alley, devoid of life in any direction he looked. Thor took in a slow breath through his nose and tried to remain calm, but there was no denying the truth.

Loki was gone.

* * *

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your encouraging words last chapter. They really helped give my spirits a boost. :) And as always, thank you for taking the time to read! It's fun to be able to share my imagination with others. I'd love to know what you thought if you have time to say hello. Follow me on [tumblr](http://pro-antagonist.tumblr.com/) to hear about updates. Cheers!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincere apologies for going so long between updates. I've been very ill since just before Christmas. For those who are curious, there are details on what's been going on with me under my #personal tag on my tumblr. Don't worry—it's not as dire as it sounds. :) Hope you're all doing well! Thank you for your patience and support.
> 
> Warning – Brief violence, death of a minor character, impending naughtiness, and maybe a bad word or two. I'm a bit pent up, okay?

_The subterranean research facility was a sterile, dispassionate environment bereft of anything save fact and strategy. Within the secrecy of the impenetrable walls, it was referred to as Project PEGASUS. Outside, it was not spoken of at all._

_At first, Loki found amusement in what Midgardians considered_ Intelligence _. He welcomed the distraction, for the last thing he wanted was to succumb to the unrelenting twist and turn of his thoughts. The shock he had felt after learning the truth of who and what he was had begun to wear off, and something else was creeping up inside of him, slowly replacing the panic._

_He thought it might be anger, but never before was anger so calm or frightening._

_He felt surreal, like he was teetering on the edge of an abyss. There was still a part of him that was connected to his family—that longed for love and acceptance in spite of their betrayal—and that was the only thing that kept him from stepping off the edge and giving himself over fully to the rage._

_And so he tried very hard not to think as he clothed himself in invisibility and followed Erik Selvig through the corridors of the research facility. Loki kept his eyes and ears open—and his heart shut off in a final attempt to salvage what was left of it._

* * *

From the first moment Thor had tackled his brother to the floor of the subway car and felt his desperation to get away, he had feared Loki might make another attempt at escape. How frustrating for it to happen now, after they had finally made a real connection. Though looking back, perhaps the only reason Loki had opened up to his brother was because he knew he was about to run. The apology and brief glimpses of honesty were Loki's way of softening the blow and saying goodbye.

After a moment of deliberation, Thor chose to run left in search of Loki and tried not to think of what it might mean if he picked the wrong direction. Midgard might be primitive, but it was also vast and densely populated. To lose someone in this city could very well be to lose them forever. What luck that he had help this time.

"Heimdall, keep your eye on him," Thor called to the sky. "Can you see him?"

There was no immediate reaction from Asgard, which was to be expected, but surely Heimdall would watch and listen now that Loki could no longer use his sei _ð_ r to hide. The Gatekeeper would send aid should the search venture too far off course.

Thor wandered nearby alleyways and streets, glimpsing into storefronts and staring hard at passing faces. It was a veritable carnival of people—rich and poor alike, some with dead eyes, others sharp and flawlessly groomed. Some carried bags made of unnaturally colored leather, overpriced cups of coffee, cellular devices, or leashes attached to inbred dogs. The symphony of their conversation flowed along in maddening order, no one waiting for their cue yet still keeping perfect time.

The sidewalks were so crowded in places that it was difficult to cover much ground. Overhead, the sun revealed how much time had elapsed as it made its steady journey toward the middle of the sky. The rising temperature shimmered on the horizon, but Thor felt cold inside. With each passing second, the chill wedged itself into his heart a little deeper.

Strange that Heimdall had not sent help or sought to guide him in any way. Thor thought surely he would have heard something by now.

He had always been good under pressure—able to remain calm and confident that the situation was in his control, even when it wasn't. But as the hours began to tick by, his mouth grew a bit drier, and his fists clenched ever tighter. He wasn't used to failure, though this was not the first time he had been unsuccessful at finding his missing brother. The last time Thor had failed, the All-Father had further solidified Thor's shame by instead placing his trust in the hands of the . . . .

Thor stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, feeling as if someone had driven a battering ram deep into his gut.

He'd forgotten. The tracker was here on Midgard.

Frigga had warned Thor that she hadn't returned from Asgard alone, but the tracker had been so quiet and secretive since then, it was easy to forget he was still out there. Was he aware that Loki had once again fled? If so, what measures would he be willing to take to drag him back again? Thor wouldn't be there this time to protect his brother—a disturbing thought, to say the least. He had traveled long enough at the tracker's side to be wary of his powers and capacity for callousness.

Loki would be found. Thor had no doubt of that, but it was a matter of who reached him first. He needed to find his brother before the tracker did, for there was no telling what might happen if he failed this time.

"Heimdall?" Thor called to the sky once again, though hesitantly this time, fearing the silence.

But only the drone of a restless city answered him.

* * *

It wasn't until the sky darkened that Thor made the decision to return to the apartment. He had remembered something the tracker had taught him during the early days of their initial search for Loki—that criminals or runaways often returned to familiar locations to retrieve something or because their options (or more commonly, their imaginations) were limited.

According to Loki, the New York apartment had only been his home for a few weeks, but though his stay was brief, perhaps he would return for something or even choose somewhere to hide close to that area simply because it was familiar to him. It was a long shot, but with Heimdall's unresponsiveness, all of Thor's other options were exhausted.

The journey back to the apartment was spent in sullen contemplation. Thor was beginning to truly fear for his brother. If searching the city all day had tired him, surely Loki must be ready to drop in his tracks. Had he found something to eat? Perhaps used the money he'd stolen to secure a place to rest for the night? Thor was too worried to feel anger at this point. All he wanted was for his brother to be all right. He could throttle Loki later, once he was safe.

When Thor exited the apartment elevator, his pace slowed—then quickened—for up ahead, he saw that Loki's door was cracked open. Thor burst inside, hoping to find his brother already there, but instead came to a halt when he encountered someone else.

The apartment was cast into darkness, but there was no mistaking the familiar lines of the tracker's profile. He stood near the living room window, observing the city lights in silence.

"You," Thor said, his tone low and disapproving.

"Me," the tracker agreed, far more pleasantly. Smugness radiated off of him. "I was wondering when you might think to return. Then again, you never were very quick on the uptake."

Thor's breath hissed out between his teeth. It was never a reassuring sign when the tracker was in a good mood. "Where is Loki?"

Without bothering to wait for a response, Thor moved to search the other rooms of the apartment, but the bathroom and bedroom were empty and dark. The only sign of life he detected was the cat, who was hiding beneath the bed, eyes wide and tail twitching.

If the tracker hadn't already found Loki, then Thor wanted nothing more to do with him. He would rather his brother be loose on his own than to be again subjected to the tracker's idea of  _hunting_. Without so much as a backward glance, Thor decided to leave the apartment.

"There are more than eight million people living in and around this city," the tracker said. "Do you really think you can find him on your own?"

"Heimdall will aid me," Thor called over his shoulder.

"How strange that he has not volunteered information already. Perhaps your Gatekeeper realizes the prince is already found. Indeed, he was never lost, so you can see there is no need for Asgard's involvement."

Thor stopped walking but did not turn around. "And yet you are here, and my brother is not. If Loki has already been found, then where is he?"

The tracker chuckled. "I needn't watch my target with physical eyes in order to see him. I've tagged the prince with a tracking enchantment. Not only do I know precisely where he is, I was alerted the moment he left your side with the intention of escape. I can tell you the amount of breaths he's taken in that time. The count of his footsteps. My magic is imbedded in his skin. It is not possible for him to run from me again."

As the implication of each word registered with Thor, he slowly faced the tracker. He had not realized the depth of the magical binding put on Loki, and the truth stunned him. This was far more intrusive than he'd assumed. "Why wait here for me to return if you know where he is?"

There was a brief glint of the tracker's teeth in the darkness. "It is the All-Father's request that you take the lead in dealings with your brother. Pardon me—I mean your  _adopted_  brother."

Thor stiffened. Few outside the royal family knew the truth of Loki's origins. The tracker had somehow attained this information, though how he intended to use it remained to be seen.

"I admit," the tracker continued, "I wasn't convinced of your value in our search for him until recently. But though he resists you at times, I can see the sway you have on him. If the prince is to return to Asgard, he must be well enough to travel. Since put in your care, his health has improved. In another week, he should be able to manage the trip. Left on his own, however . . . ." The tracker's smile resurfaced. "We really should hurry, by the way. I didn't think it possible for him to make his situation worse, but he has exceeded my expectations in a most spectacular way. Unless, of course, you'd prefer I fetch him on my own."

It was a relief to know Odin had ordered the tracker to allow Thor to take the lead when dealing with Loki, but Thor still despised the idea of working with the man at all. He extended his hand, and at his bidding, Mjölnir flew from the bedroom and straight into his palm.

"After you," Thor said with a hollow smile—an unspoken threat.

* * *

The trek through the city lasted only fifteen minutes, a surprisingly short distance considering the many hours Thor had spent searching for his brother. The tracker led the way through the seemingly endless blare of traffic and streetlights and never once glanced back to see if Thor was following. It was evident that the tracker was just as confident that his audience was keeping up as he was in his belief that this was indeed the right direction.

Thor glared at the man from behind, not bothering to hide his distaste. He wanted the tracker to see and acknowledge that they were no longer partners in a common quest. He had brought injury to Loki, and for that, Thor would not forgive him. If that trespass was repeated, this night would end in bloodshed.

In time, the tracker slowed and gestured up ahead. "He's in there."

Thor both heard and felt their destination before he saw it. The chilly nighttime air was filled with the muffled sounds of music and drunken laughter. A hammering bass drum tickled the fine hairs in his ears.

The tracker had led them to an older, more industrial part of the city. Featureless cement buildings lined the streets, most of them dark and devoid of life. But the one he had indicated had a basement entrance guarded by an overweight man wearing a black suit and an uninviting expression.

The building had no markings or sign to indicate what manner of business it was, but the music and scent of alcohol assured Thor of what he would find inside. Though different in style and feel, Asgard had a similar district—a nighttime playground for adults, kept private behind closed doors. It was difficult to imagine that Loki would willingly seek out such a place, but his behavior had not exactly been normal or predictable of late.

"Stay here," Thor said to the tracker. "I will retrieve him."

But when he approached the entrance, the man guarding the door held up his hands to block his path. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You can't take that inside. What is that thing—some kind of prop?"

Thor's brow furrowed, and he glanced down at Mjölnir, which he held at his side. It was apparently viewed as a threat. He had no quarrel with these people, and so he set his weapon on the ground beside the short set of stairs that led down to the front doorway. It wasn't as if anyone could steal Mjölnir, and should he have need of it, he had only to call it to his hand again.

"My brother is inside," Thor explained. "I wish only to enter long enough to recover him."

The man narrowed his eyes. Beads of sweat peppered his brow in spite of the chill in the air. "You got ID?"

Again, Thor was momentarily perplexed. Was proof of citizenship required before entering a public establishment? A strange custom. "I am a visitor to your realm and possess no papers." He removed a bill of Midgardian currency from his pocket and held it up between his fingers. "Will this suffice?"

The man snatched the money away, coughed discreetly as he pocketed it, and then stood to the side to allow entrance. It would seem Midgard was not so different than other realms in certain respects.

"My thanks, friend," Thor said with a nod of acknowledgement.

Once inside, the music was loud enough to disorient the listener. Combined with the glare of neon lights and the haze of smoke, it was like descending through a tunnel into another world. But Thor had not come to indulge in Midgard's nightlife. With his face set into a stony look of determination, he made his way into the crowd.

It was a challenge for someone of his size to move around with ease. Bodies bumped and rubbed up against him unabashedly and remained there until Thor passed beyond their reach. The music had a maddening beat that was slightly faster than the thrum of his heart and encouraged it to race ahead to keep up. The singer spoke in mournful whispers and sighs that could almost be felt on the back of the neck. Those on the dancefloor appeared hypnotized by the beat as well as the movement of their own bodies.

Thor scanned the mindless faces but did not find the one he was looking for. He was beckoned by both men and women more than once—sometimes with words, sometimes with action—but he ignored every attempt to capture his attention.

If he were Loki, where would he choose to dwell in this place? Thor closed his eyes and imagined his brother standing in the midst of the noise. Loki would not tolerate such an imposing crowd but would instead favor the quieter, darker places where he could observe from afar.

With this in mind, Thor made his way to the edge of the dancefloor and found more patrons standing around tables and ordering drinks at a brightly lit bar. Loki wasn't there either. Metal stairs led up to a mezzanine that overlooked the dancefloor. Though space was limited, the area was populated by couples eager to take advantage of the privacy afforded by the shadows. They leaned precariously against the railing, intertwined with each other and not seeming to care if they fell.

 _There_ , Thor thought.

Not long after ascending to the mezzanine, he found Loki standing off by himself in the furthest corner with his arms resting limply on the railing. A young man with broad shoulders and wavy hair the color of wet sand leaned in close to say something, though Loki did not give any indication that he had heard. His eyes were closed, like he was lost in a dream. His hair reflected the neon spectrum of the lights, and his pale skin looked like it was carved from the luminous surface of Midgard's moon.

He was beautiful, with an otherworldly air that made him clearly stand out as not belonging to this realm—like some kind of angel floating above them all.

"Brother," Thor breathed. He pushed forward and took hold of Loki's arm to ensure he wasn't an illusion.

Loki jolted as if waking from a reverie and opened his eyes. They were as colorless as the rest of his face, blanched of their hue by the wash of light downstairs. As he turned and squinted up at Thor, a strange little smile spread across his face. "Are you real?" he asked, the words barely audible.

If the scent of his breath hadn't given it away, the crookedness of that smile paired with the unfocused sway of his body told Thor that his little brother was drunk out of his mind—worse than he'd ever seen him.

"Do you mind?" the sandy-haired man said, nudging Thor in the arm. "We're talking here."

Though Thor ignored the stranger, a dark knot of jealousy pulled tight in his chest. He did not want to think about how much of Midgard's inferior alcohol Loki would have had to consume to have this significant an effect on him. Even with his poor physical condition, it was likely he'd been drinking all day to achieve this end. The young man he was with had a bottle in his hand, and there were others at their feet.

It made Thor ache with sadness to see his brother like this. "Oh, Loki," he said, touching his face with just the tips of his fingers. "What have you done to yourself?"

Loki's smile dissolved into quiet laughter. He pushed away from the railing in an attempt to stand up straight, but instead lost his balance and barreled forward into Thor's chest. This only made Loki laugh harder as Thor struggled to keep him upright.

"You can't be real," Loki purred in Thor's ear. "He wouldn't find me here. Not when there's a world in need of saving." Loki pressed in closer and tightened his fingers around the fabric of his brother's shirt. "I must have dreamed you up."

Thor tensed but held still. It wasn't easy to ignore the unexpectedly seductive caress of Loki's breath on his neck or the rub of his belt buckle against Thor's thigh. Did Loki have even the slightest idea what he was doing?

"Brother. . ." Thor murmured. It was a plea for something, though he wasn't certain what.

"Man, fuck this," said the sandy-haired stranger. He drained his bottle and dropped it at their feet with a glare. "Too much work," he added before stalking off in a mood.

Loki was so focused on Thor that he did not acknowledge the departure. He exhaled with obvious pleasure and said, "Mmm, but you smell like him. Perhaps I am mistaken."

He pressed his mouth against the crook of Thor's neck, his lips spread apart in a blissed-out smile—and Thor could not help nor hide his reaction. His eyes drifted shut, and he leaned in, absolutely entranced by the wet heat of his brother's mouth on his skin. Without thinking, he placed a hand on Loki's hip, which was moving in a distracting rhythm all its own, paying no heed to the faster beat of the music.

The movement of Loki's body felt too much like a dance of another kind. It pulled Thor under and filled his mind with images he knew he shouldn't entertain. As he rubbed his lips against Loki's hairline, Thor imagined dragging his brother into the dark alley behind the club, pushing him up against a wall, and capturing with one hand that willful little chin with its smirking mouth and intoxicating breath. Thor would force Loki to look him long and hard in the eyes before he pressed in and . . . .

Thor's eyes blinked open, and he swallowed once. His hand moved away from his brother's hip and encircled his waist instead, pulling him protectively against his chest. "Come on," he said, moving toward the stairs. "I need to get you out of here."

Loki moaned something that sounded like a protest, but he was far too inebriated to put up a real fuss. He slumped against his brother and let himself be carried a few steps before he finally found his footing. Even then, he relied heavily on Thor's guidance and strength to help him down the stairs to the first floor.

Thor kept his arm around his brother as they maneuvered the outer edge of the dancefloor and made for the front entrance, but Loki did not make it easy on him. He spun around until he was facing Thor and tried to slow them down with the suggestive positioning of his body. He whispered something in Thor's ear, but the music drowned out the words. The insinuation of his tone, however, was not so easily washed away.

"Stop it," Thor growled.

When they reached the cement stairs that led up to street-level, the cold outside air seemed to sober Loki up—at least enough for him to realize what was happening and that he wasn't pleased about it. His teasing mood vanished as they ascended, and though he tried to pull away, Thor maintained an iron grip on his brother's arm.

"Let  _go_ ," Loki demanded, spittle flying from his mouth. "What are you doing here? How did you even find me?"

"We're going home," Thor replied. "It's up to you if you want to make the journey difficult or not. It will all end up the same."

The word  _home_  filled Loki with panic. "Thor, please." His shoes skidded on the pavement as Thor dragged him forward. "Stop!"

The guard at the front of the club had taken notice of the brothers' struggle. Blocking their path, he shoved hard at Thor's right shoulder and said, "Now that guy doesn't seem to want to leave with you. Explain to me why I should let you take him?"

"This is none of your concern," Thor said, striving to keep his voice even and calm—not a simple matter when Loki was beginning to fight him in earnest. It was dangerous for a mortal to stand so close to two quarreling gods. "Move aside."

From a harness he wore at his hip, the man pulled out a Taser but didn't raise it. "Last warning. Let him go, or I make you. Right before I call the cops."

And then he made the mistake of reaching for Loki's arm.

It was likely the guard only intended to offer his help. However, the tracker decided to interpret the interference differently. With the man now armed with a weapon and making a purposeful move toward Loki, the tracker felt justified in defending that which the All-Father had paid him in gold to protect.

Unnoticed from where he stood on the street a dozen paces away, the tracker lifted his rifle and fired without hesitation. There was a flash of light and a deafening blast right before the guard disintegrated into a mess of blood, tissue, and charred bone.

Loki and Thor froze in place, both of them equally stunned by the noise of the weapon and the violent death of a mortal right before their eyes. Their faces and clothing were peppered with tiny droplets of blood. Loki's pupils were blown wide, and he stared at the tracker as if truly seeing him for the first time.

On high alert, Thor yanked his brother behind him and beckoned Mjölnir to his hand. "That attack was unwarranted!" he roared at the tracker. "You know damn well humans pose no threat to us."

The tracker smirked and rested his smoking rifle against his shoulder. "If that's your opinion of them, you certainly have much to learn about mankind."

Thor clenched his teeth. There were panicked cries from further down the street as well as inside the club. No doubt sirens and Midgard's police force would come next. He was losing control of the situation. "The citizens of this realm are under my protection. They are as dear to me as my own people. You will not bring them to harm."

"Goodness, I had no idea you felt so strongly about them," the tracker said, his tone scathing. "Though admittedly, I should have anticipated the depths of your passion, given the obvious hard-on you have for your own brother. You  _do_  seem quite the dedicated protector, Odinson."

Upon hearing these words, Thor's vision went white with rage. Only the icy grip of Loki's hand on his forearm kept his temper at bay.

"Thor," Loki whispered. The fight had gone out of him, but the alcohol still had possession of his wits and balance. He was shaking and swayed as if ready to drop to the bloody pavement.

Mjölnir crackled with lightning, but this was not the time or place to challenge the tracker—not with Loki here and unable to defend himself, and certainly not with so many other mortals nearby. Still, it was difficult for Thor to walk away from this fight.

"Get out of our way," Thor warned. "I'm taking Loki home."

A smile seeped across the tracker's face. "You won't even know I'm here," he said—and vanished from sight.

* * *

To be continued

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egads, my writing is rusty. I am a mess of insecurity right now, so any reassurances you have are greatly appreciated. (Ngl I kinda want to hide under a rock at the moment.) More h/c to come in the next chapter because I'm a glutton for angst. Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning – Brief mention of suicidal thoughts.

 

_Concealed beneath Midgard's surface, little could be discerned of the mysteries held within the research facility. Not even Heimdall, who could see across both time and space, had ever made mention that something extraordinary might be contained within the underground fortress._

_And yet there it was—a most curious device that even the simplest mortal could not turn his face away from. The Cube radiated power. Whispered possibilities. Promised greatness._

" _What is it?" Dr. Selvig said._

_The question was posed to Selvig's host—a tall, imposing man whom his subordinates addressed as Director Fury—but Loki paid no attention to the response. He already knew exactly what was before him._

_This was the Tesseract, the once-jewel of Odin's treasure room._

_It would seem Laufey's son was not the only one of Odin's relics that had fallen to Midgard._

* * *

The City of New York was every bit as animated and alive at night as it was during the day, albeit with a far different assortment of characters. As Thor guided his brother through the streets, he confined their movements to the shadows, but it was impossible to escape the notice of others. At least, not with Loki behaving in such a conspicuous manner.

While it had only taken Thor fifteen minutes to walk from the apartment to the club where he had found his brother, the journey home had already stretched well past half an hour. When Loki possessed the strength, he pulled against Thor's grip and did everything in his power to twist away. When his strength failed him—and it often did—Loki simply relied on drunken pleading.

"Don't make me do this," he said. "Thor, I beg you." His words were mere gasps of desperation, and he looked half-wild as he scanned their dizzying surroundings. It was as though he could barely make sense of anything he saw. The alcohol's effect on him had not dwindled.

Thor met the gazes of a nearby group of tourists, who had noticed their struggle. One of them had a camera-phone pointed in their direction. Could they see the speckles of the murdered guard's blood on the brothers' clothing and skin? "You are unwell and in need of rest," Thor replied, his voice steady in spite of Loki's panic. "I must get you home."

Loki attempted to turn around to stand in his brother's path but only succeeded in stumbling. "There is no rest for me in  _that place_."

The last two words were so hatefully spoken that Thor fell silent in their wake. As they traversed a crosswalk and endured a series of angry honks from a taxicab driver, it occurred to him that Loki might have misunderstood their destination.

Hoping for a moment of privacy, Thor led them to a shadowy area beside an unlit storefront and gripped Loki by the shoulders. "Brother," Thor said gently, "I'm not taking you to Asgard. Tell me you understand that."

Loki's teeth chattered from a combination of cold and fear. "You said you were taking me h-home." He struggled to enunciate the final word, as if it represented something unthinkable.

"To your home here on Midgard," Thor clarified.  _Our home_ , he almost said. His hand moved from Loki's shoulder up to his face, hoping to reassure him. "The apartment."

As Thor's thumb wiped a droplet of blood from his brother's cheek, Loki glared at him with eyes full of tears. "Swear it," he whispered.

Thor sighed. How it hurt to know his brother despised and even seemed to fear their true home, where they had grown up at each other's sides. Shining Asgard—with its towering mountains and glittering spires. The entirety of the realm practically  _belonged_  to the princes, who had claimed it as theirs in their minds long before they were set to inherit it. They had always been happy there—or at least, Thor had assumed they were. Now he could not help but wonder how long this discontentment had been building inside of Loki. Surely his decision to flee Asgard could not be the result of a single argument with the All-Father.

"What did father say to you to make you this averse to returning?" Thor asked. "Asgard is your home and your inheritance. You have every right to call it that as I do."

" _Swear it_ ," Loki said again, "or so help me, I'll make an oath of my own."

Though his brother was easily overpowered in his intoxicated state, Thor had no desire to push him. There was no telling how Loki would react. Sirens could be heard in the distance, and they had received far too much attention since departing the club. Thor had to get them home and off the streets. "We will not return to Asgard tonight. I swear it."

Loki held his brother's gaze for one drawn out, trembling moment—like he was searching for something he desperately wanted yet feared was not there. When he finally looked away, his face had crumpled with defeat. He swept Thor's hands aside, wrapped his arms around himself, and staggered off in the direction of the apartment.

Thor stared helplessly after him, once again baffled by the mystery that was his brother's mind. What had he said that was so upsetting? He had given Loki exactly what he'd asked for.

Or rather—he almost had. Thor had sworn not to bring his brother to Asgard  _tonight_ , only Loki had made it quite clear he desired never to go back. But what other choice did Thor have when the All-Father demanded the return of the lost prince?

Though he made no further protest, Loki remained shut off for the duration of the journey to the apartment. He ignored his brother's questions and slapped away any attempt to help him walk in a straight line. But the alcohol continued to do its work on him, penetrating deeper and deeper into his bloodstream, and by the time they made it to the apartment elevator, Loki's mood had turned dark.

Thor hovered as close as he dared, ready to catch his brother if he fell, though wary of the blow Loki might deal him in the process. "Come on," Thor said when the doors opened. "We're nearly there. I'll help you wash up."

"Get  _away_  from me," Loki hissed as he stumbled out of the elevator.

Once they were inside the apartment, he headed straight for the bathroom. Thor lagged behind, however, sensing the storm that was about to break. After closing the front door, he leaned against it and paused to slow his breathing. He was angry with his brother for a great many reasons, and it took him a minute to remember his mother's advice, swallow it all down, and regain control. He knew if he didn't, he would be chasing after Loki again very soon, and this had to end. The trust had to be reestablished between them, or every moment Thor had spent trying to heal his brother would be wasted.

After setting Mjölnir aside, he followed Loki and found him bent over the bathroom sink, breathing hard. Upon seeing him like that, with his face ashen and wet with both tears and blood, the remainder of Thor's anger faded away. His little brother was a mess, literally falling apart before his eyes. Loki needed help.

"Here," Thor said. He turned on the water and reached for a washcloth with the intention of cleaning the blood off of Loki's face.

"What part of 'get away from me' escapes your understanding?" Loki said. The words were spoken through clenched teeth, and his knuckles were white as they gripped the sides of the counter.

Thor ran the cloth under the water and turned the faucet off. "Why do you fight me so when I only offer kindness?"

When he attempted to touch the dampened cloth to his brother's cheek, Loki jerked away and said, "Because it is not kindness. This is pity. You are a mirror image of  _him_ —thinking you own me, thinking you have a right to keep me locked up like some kind of. . . of . . ." The rising emotion overwhelmed him, and he gripped his hair and let out a frustrated roar. "I know what you're doing,  _Odinson_."

Setting the cloth aside, Thor lifted his hands in submission. "Brother, I don't understand. You're putting words in my mouth and meaning to my actions that aren't true. What is it you think I've done? Tell me, and I will make it right."

Whatever it was, Thor suspected it had more to do with the All-Father than with himself. That much was clear.

"You're lying to me!" Loki shouted. Then, quieter, he added, "Using me." Either the desire to fight left him, or he was too exhausted to continue standing. Loki leaned against the wall and slid downward until he was seated upon the floor. He put his head in his hands to hide his face. "What do I do, what do I do?" he whispered. "I can't get out."

Though there was scarcely room enough for the both of them, Thor sat down on the floor beside his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is that what you feel father has done? Used you?"

"Why else would he lay claim to the son of a monster?" Loki muttered. His fingers tightened in his hair, pulling painfully. "Why else would he want me back? He told me I am nothing but a political pawn, and now you're set to inherit my usefulness in whatever war you have planned with the frost giants. I will not go back to that place."

Though Thor did not know what had transpired between Odin and Loki a year ago, he had his doubts that their father had spoken those exact words. "I would never seek to use you in such a way, nor do I have any plans to make war with Jötunheim. That, I swear to you. Now tell me exactly what father said. If what you claim is true, then he has much to answer for. But Loki, you might have misunderst—"

" _Shhh_." Loki's hands moved over his ears. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Why do you keep forcing it when I have told you I am  _done_? H-he will hear, and I can't . . . I can't face him like this. Just . . .  _look at me_." His head shook back and forth. "Don't make me, Thor. Please, please don't make me."

As he watched Loki's already tenuous grip on reason disintegrate further, helplessness weighed heavy on Thor's heart. The alcohol had at long last loosened his brother's tongue, giving him his first real glimpse into why Loki had fled Asgard, but it had also set free a storm of emotion Thor had underestimated the size and intensity of. How could he fight a battle that only existed in his brother's mind?

Loki had told him earlier that morning that there was too much trapped inside of him to ever put into words, and Thor was now beginning to see that for himself. Even what Loki had said here tonight about his suspicions of Odin's motives only seemed to scratch the surface of what was wrong. It could very well take years to sort through everything, yet Thor had roughly a week before his brother would be deemed strong enough to make the journey back to Asgard whether he was ready or not.

Thor had no idea what to say or do, and so he thought about what their mother might have done, were she here in his place. He remembered the way Frigga would hold Loki as a child until he calmed down enough to listen to reason.  _You feel things so deeply_ , she would say to him.  _You must let it out so that it does not drag you down with it. You will drown there, my love._

Immediately, Thor slid his arm around his brother's shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. He might not possess Frigga's gentle words and patience, but this was something he could give. Loki could not drown if Thor was there to hold his head above the water.

"Stop," Loki said, pushing ineffectually at Thor's chest. "He will see, and he's always thought me weak. They're all up there,  _looking at me_. Laughing at what a good joke my life has been. And I can't conceal myself from their judgment anymore."

Thor reached up to switch off the bathroom lights, casting the room into darkness in the hopes that it would make his brother feel more hidden and protected. He covered the crown of Loki's head with his hand and said, "No one can see you. Not Heimdall or father. Try to breathe."

"How can I when there's no air? I am  _trapped_ , Thor. I cannot hide, nor can I run. The All-Father has me hedged in on every side, and I would rather die than be dragged back to that place."

Thor squeezed his eyes shut, but it was too late to shut out the unpleasant progression of his thoughts. In his memory, he saw the open balcony doors in the bedroom, positioned high above the streets—and Loki sitting before them, half naked and shivering as he struggled to write something down before he . . . .

"You don't mean that," Thor said, even though he knew in his heart that wasn't true.

Loki buried his face in his brother's shoulder and began to weep, which was answer enough. He meant it. "I don't know what to do. I'm so afraid."

Were his system not flooded with alcohol, Thor was certain Loki's pride would never allow him to admit such a thing out loud. "There is nothing to fear. I would not let harm befall you. I am on your side in this, remember?"

"But you  _aren't_ , are you? If you were, I would not be in the All-Father's trap. It will be you who marches me triumphantly back to my cage and reaps the rewards of putting me in my  _rightful place_. You are no better than him." But despite the harsh words, Loki held on to Thor just as fiercely as Thor held onto him. "Please, brother," Loki wept. "If I mean anything to you at all, don't let them take me back there."

Thor pressed his mouth against Loki's hair and wondered—what if this was the last time his little brother asked for help? What if tomorrow, the cold indifference returned and never left? What if Loki never again called him brother?

Thor drew in a deep, steadying breath and said, "All right."

It took a minute—but eventually Loki's head shifted on Thor's shoulder. "What?"

"You win," Thor said. "I will not force you to return to Asgard if it is not your wish to go."

Another long pause. Loki's tears slowly began to quiet down, but his trembling remained.

"I cannot say I understand everything you feel right now," Thor continued, "but I see how much this is affecting you. If the idea of returning to Asgard is this painful, then I will not ask it of you. More than that, I will remain here at your side."

Loki pushed away and blinked at Thor in the darkness. "What are you saying?"

"That you do not have to ret—"

"Shut up! I heard that part. But I suppose the All-Father's commands mean nothing to you. What do you think will happen when Asgard comes for me anyway? Neither of us has a choice in this."

"Father has banished me for disobedience before," Thor said. "I've little doubt he will do it again. That does not change my resolve."

Loki stared at Thor like he'd lost his mind. "He could strip you of your powers, not to mention your weapon and title."

"I have endured that before. My brother means a great deal more to me than status or possessions."

"Are you even listening?" Loki snapped. "Defy the All-Father, and you could lose the  _crown_. No doubt Heimdall is at this very moment paying witness to your treason and skipping merrily down the Rainbow Bridge to tattle-tell."

"No doubt," Thor agreed. "Though I hardly think such a declaration can be kept secret. Father will discover the truth one way or another. It's just as well he receive the news now, when you are still physically unable to travel by the Bifröst. It will give him time to think before he's able to do anything rash."

"And what of this tracker the All-Father hired to bring me back? Perhaps you've failed to notice, but he is a powerful sorcerer. I have no access to my powers and cannot effectively fight him, nor can you should you be stripped of Mjölnir."

"The way I see it, it's very simple."

Loki snorted. "Imagine that. You being simplistic."

"If father forces this, he loses two sons. If he chooses to back down, he keeps at least one of them. Perhaps one day, he will even regain the trust of the other."

"It will not work. He is too strong and set in his ways, and he will not stand by while we—"

"I don't  _care_ , Loki," Thor said, his temper beginning to spark. "Let him send the tracker after us. Let him send an entire host of Einherjar. We will find a way."

"You are  _ridiculous_."

"And you are my  _brother_!"

The words rang out with more volume than Thor intended, but he did not feel the need to apologize—not even when Loki flinched and dropped his gaze. If there was anything he needed to hear and accept, it was this.

"Do you understand?" Thor said. He gripped Loki's arms, careful not to hurt him, and gave him a little shake as he spoke. "I would do anything—give up anything—for you. You are my brother in every way that matters, and when you ask for my help, you will receive it. I love you and will not leave you. If you must run from Asgard, then let me run with you."

The slightest bit of indirect light from the hallway illuminated the bathroom, and Thor could see only a hint of his brother's expression. Loki's face was still downcast, and he trembled between Thor's hands.

"Brother," Loki whispered. His hand found Thor's wrist and grasped it. "I am not the person you think I am. You should be wary of me."

A smile pulled at the side of Thor's mouth. "I learned to be wary of you the first time I saw you handle a knife as a boy. We must trust each other if this is to work. I have already given you mine. Will you trust me in return?"

Loki exhaled sharply. It was a sound somewhere between a sob of frustration and a sigh of relief. A breath later, he moved into his brother's arms without argument or hesitation.

* * *

They stayed there for some time—long after sitting on the bathroom floor had grown uncomfortable—until at last, Loki calmed down. His breathing slowed to nearly nothing, and he let his muscles go completely lax as he rested against Thor's strength. The influence of the alcohol had finally left him, and his demeanor was far sweeter and gentler now. Still, sadness emanated from deep within.

Thor touched his brother and did not receive even a hint of resistance. He rubbed any memory of tension from Loki's neck, then did the same to his back, arms, and hands. Thor's own muscles screamed at him to get up and stretch, but he refused to give up this moment.

"Brother?" Loki said. His voice cracked from not speaking for nearly two hours.

Thor's fingers paused in Loki's hair. "I'm here. What is it?"

"Will you place Mjölnir in front of the door?"

It was a simple enough request and a clever one at that. Loki wanted to prevent anyone sent from Asgard, including the tracker, from entering the apartment—but what it represented meant far more. Only a few days had passed since Loki had demanded Thor not place Mjölnir in front of the door to keep  _him_  from leaving. Loki's trust in him was finally won.

Thor dropped a kiss on his brother's forehead and got to his feet. It was not easy for the brothers to untangle their limbs, and they were both sore and wincing by the time they managed to stand. Despite his discomfort, Thor found it difficult to allow Loki to slip away after such a long span of quiet intimacy. However, it was pleasing to see Loki reach for the shower knobs and turn the hot water on.

Realizing his brother was actually planning to voluntarily take care of himself for once, Thor smiled. But it faded a moment later as he watched Loki strip off his shirt and let it drop. Thor followed the garment's journey to the floor, for that was easier to stare at than the naked expanse of his brother's skin.

"Do you need help?" Thor was hesitant to ask the question because he wanted Loki to refuse. They had just spent the better part of two hours reestablishing their brotherhood. Climbing into a steamy shower together did not seem like the wisest way to cement that relationship.

With his back turned, Loki unzipped his jeans and kicked them off. "I'm stronger than you give me credit for."

Anxious to leave, Thor nodded and stepped out into the hallway.

"What about you?" Loki called after him.

Thor paused and placed his hand on the doorjamb, still refusing to look.

"Aren't you going to clean up?" Loki clarified. "You're every bit as filthy as I am."

It made Thor wonder exactly how much Loki remembered of his behavior at the club.

Did he recall the suggestive things he'd said or why he'd thought to say them at all? Did he remember the feel of his brother's hand claiming possession of his hip and guiding him closer? Had Loki understood what the tracker had so plainly pointed out before his departure?

"Let me know when you're done," Thor said. "I'll go next."

Without waiting for a response, Thor left and headed straight for the front entryway. He found it somewhat surprising when he was able to pick up his weapon and place it in front of the door. He had entertained both treasonous and incestuous thoughts that day, and yet Mjölnir was still willing to consider him worthy. Simply miraculous.

A tiny  _meow_  reminded Thor that they still had a guest. The unnamed cat had come to weave between his legs to beg for dinner and attention.

"Do you not have a home of your own, little one?" Thor asked. "This is hardly the safest place for you to dwell, especially now."

Fetching the creature some water and meat from the kitchen proved to be a welcome distraction. Thor was hungry as well, having skipped all meals that day while he was searching for his brother, so he helped himself to a portion of bread, meat, and fruit. He set a serving aside for Loki and wondered if he would finally consent to eat something, now that Thor had agreed to help rather than hinder his escape from Asgard.

Thinking about Loki proved to be a mistake. With a piece of fruit at his lips—a ripened peach from Frigga's gardens—Thor lifted his eyes. The bathroom door had been left open, and from this angle, he could see inside. Loki had not closed the shower curtain all the way. (Had he done that on purpose?) Even with the light off and the room filled with steam, Thor could make out his brother's form.

With his hands positioned against the wall in front of him to support his weight, Loki let his head hang down. Water streamed down his body in rivers and dripped from his hair and lips. He was still far too thin, and Thor's eyes followed the inward curve of Loki's belly down to the jut of his hipbone. His cock, half-hard and rose-tipped, peeked out from behind the pale column of his thigh.

Loki pushed away from the wall and tossed his head back. After wiping the water from his face, he looked Thor dead in the eye.

Thor bit into the fruit and stared calmly back.

Did Loki remember the club? Had he acted that way on purpose to mock Thor?

Was Loki mocking Thor now? Rubbing his face in what he couldn't have and should never want?

While Loki shut off the water and reached for a towel, Thor finished his fruit and threw away the pit. "Done?" he asked when his brother appeared in the kitchen, a towel wrapped low around his hips.

"All yours," Loki said.

In the bathroom, Thor shut the door, left the lights off, and turned the water on as hot as it would go. He took himself in hand, let the memory of water dripping from Loki's parted lips fill his mind, and found his climax in less than a minute.

Thor sagged against the wall, panting and unsatisfied. What in Hel's name did he think he was doing? It was one thing to dutifully resist such thoughts, as he had done dozens of times throughout the latter days of their youth and into adulthood. It was another thing entirely to allow himself to think about Loki there in the shower with him, naked and beautiful and staring straight at Thor like he knew exactly what he wanted.

Those burning green eyes offered absolutely nothing, yet dared his brother to covet everything.

With a groan, Thor pulled and worked at his cock. His lips moved, forming and repeating a single word over and over again as he chased after another orgasm. A word he should never say in moments like these. Should never want to hear whispered back.

_Brother_ , he mouthed silently.  _Brother._

* * *

Half an hour later, Thor emerged from the bathroom much calmer and ready to drop into bed from exhaustion. He felt guilty and defeated by his own mind, but his mood lightened when he spotted the plate he'd left for Loki in the kitchen. More than half of the food had been eaten, and there was a nearly-drained glass of water on the counter. Loki had actually taken the initiative to care for himself without anyone having to beg or force him.

Thor felt the stirrings of real hope. Was this truly all Loki needed this entire time—a promise from his brother to stand with him? It might very well mean facing wrath from Asgard, which could arrive at any moment, but Thor was too pleased to allow such thoughts to trouble him. He didn't know how, but they would find a way through this. He had to hope his mother had made just as much progress with Odin as Thor had with Loki.

Weariness called Thor to the bedroom. He resisted it as long as he could but soon found himself standing in the doorway, staring into the cool darkness. Loki was lying on his side, eyes open and waiting for him. His hair was still damp and curling, and his hand rested flat on the mattress, almost like an invitation for Thor to lie down close beside him.

_I will not touch him_ , Thor promised himself.

After flicking on the closet light and locating a pair of sleeping pants, Thor let the towel around his waist drop so that he could change. He tried not to wonder if Loki was still watching and if he had bothered to put on any clothes before getting into bed.

When he finished dressing and turned, he saw that Loki's eyes were half closed and watering as though the light from the closet hurt them.

"Sorry." Thor switched off the light and padded over to the bed. "Does your head ache?"

"Among other things," Loki said. "Namely, my pride."

Thor smiled as he pulled back the covers. "How many times have you taken care of me when I overindulged? It's only fair I take a turn, though the next time you feel like escaping into drink, perhaps you could invite me along."

Loki watched with a guarded expression as Thor settled into bed. Finally, he asked in a small voice, "Why do you put up with me?"

Thor rolled onto his side to face his brother. Loki's eyelids were swollen from crying, and he looked exhausted. But beneath the sadness, there was also a glimmer of the same hope Thor felt.

"You haven't figured that out yet?" Thor said. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the clever one. You know the reason why, but I will say it again if you need to hear it."

Loki didn't respond, but his eyes clearly said,  _Yes. Yes, I need to hear it._

It was then that Thor remembered where he had seen that look on his brother's face before. Loki used to look at him that way when they were boys—before they knew anything of rivalry, jealousy, or mistrust. It was an expression of devotion and awe, and there also was a vulnerability beneath it all—an acknowledgement that he wasn't the biggest or strongest, but that he trusted his older brother to protect him rather than beat him down. Loki's heart was exposed in a way it hadn't been for centuries.

Thor reached out to tuck his brother's hair behind one ear. How had they let their friendship stray so far from those days, when everything was so uncomplicated and effortless? "I put up with you because I love you," Thor said. "And though you won't say it aloud, I like to think you put up with me for the same reason."

Loki's expression did not change. After a long silence, he dropped his eyes to Thor's chest and said, "I won't attempt to run again." His fingertips traced a pattern over Thor's heart. "At least, not from you."

Thor held still and watched his brother's face as he touched his chest. His own fingers were still in Loki's hair, and Thor dared not move them. Loki's eyelids were heavy with sadness as his thumb dragged over the hard bud of his brother's nipple. Thor tensed and drew in a slow breath, but Loki kept going as if he hadn't noticed. He appeared only quietly curious as the tips of his fingers explored the deep valleys between Thor's muscles.

By the time Loki made it down to his brother's stomach and began to draw a thoughtful circle around his belly button, Thor's erection was pressing against Loki's thigh. There was no way he didn't feel it. And still, neither of them reacted.

Thor stared at his brother's mouth.  _I will not touch him_ , he promised himself again.  _Not unless he asks me to._

There were a thousand reasons not to act, but Thor knew it would take just one instant of acknowledgement from his brother to make every one of those reasons lose meaning. But Loki said nothing as he mapped out the border where Thor's clothing crossed his lower abdomen.

_Look at me_ , Thor said silently.  _Look me in the eyes, and I will kiss you until you fall asleep._

How good it would feel to end this horrible day with something warm and gentle. There would be no pressure or expectations for anything more. Just a kiss. Not lust but love. Surely there was nothing wrong with that—not if Loki consented to receive it.

However, Loki still refused to look up, even as his fingers teased Thor's skin mere inches away from his erection.

Thor wet his lips and said, "Brother. . . ." His hand went to Loki's chin to guide it upward.

"Don't," Loki whispered back.

Thor's hand stilled, then dropped.

A heavy silence hung between them—a burning question that was not vocalized but was clearly communicated.

"Asgard will see," Loki eventually explained.

The words were so quietly spoken, it took Thor a moment to register his brother's refusal might not be for the reasons he'd anticipated. He was left awake to ponder that and other questions as Loki huddled closer, buried his nose in Thor's chest, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There always seems to be one chapter in all of my stories where Loki suffers an emotional breakdown that ends in snuggles. Welp.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long hiatus between updates. I recently gave birth to twins and wrote this chapter between double diaper changes. As far as excuses go, I hope that one doesn't suck too much. :) Thank you for your patience!
> 
> Just a quick note on Loki's characterization in this story. Even though I have woobified the heck out of him, I don't plan on shying away from the darker side of his personality. But keep in mind that many of the events in the first Thor film have not happened to him—(or to Thor, for that matter)—so they are both slightly different. The Loki in this story has not fallen into the Void, attempted to kill Thor, experienced the sting of Odin's rejection, the W3's betrayal, etc. While the potential for the villain to emerge is still there, Loki is not the same person that he is in later films. A portion of his innocence is still intact.

_Upon recognizing the Tesseract for what it was, Loki's heart betrayed him with a terrible rush of hope._

_It was a powerful enough sentiment to steal his breath away and send him drifting aimlessly about the compound's labyrinthine passageways, his mind wooed by possibilities and heart aching with loneliness—for it had occurred to him that he could use the Tesseract as a means to return to Asgard. As an excuse to go home._

_The scene played itself out in his imagination: Loki approaching the All-Father's throne, his chin hoisted with defiant pride and no hint of the shameful weakness that had sent him running to Midgard. He would present the king with a gift worthy enough to be recorded in Asgard's annals of history by royal scribes. Indeed, Odin could not refuse such an offering and would welcome the one who brought it. The past would be forgotten and perhaps Loki's inherent failings would as well._

_Would Odin at last see him as a worthy son, Loki wondered?_

_Did the old man think him dead?_

_Did he think of Loki at all?_

_Hidden in a quiet copse of shadows, Loki closed his eyes and let himself pretend—that someone might be searching for him, that Odin might be keeping his missing son in the forefront of his thoughts for once instead of Thor, that those who had hurt him might feel a measure of guilt and remorse._

_But such thoughts faded eventually, as all lies did when exposed to time and contemplation._

_When Loki opened his eyes and straightened his posture, he was a good deal calmer. There were other things he could do with the Tesseract, he reasoned, and certainly more satisfying ways to make those who had rejected him feel remorse._

* * *

That night, Thor's dreams brought him to the frozen wilderness of Jötunheim.

The sky churned murky and silent overhead, and his cape whipped in the wind like a flag proclaiming Asgard's sovereignty over the defeated realm. Against the colorless landscape, the crimson fabric looked like blood trailing out behind him. He felt Loki's presence hovering there, lost in shadow.

Spinning Mjölnir idly in his hands, Thor turned and smirked when he recognized the fear wavering in Loki's wide, youthful eyes. "Why do you look upon me so?" Thor asked, amused. "The enemy is no more."

All around them were the slaughtered warriors of Jötunheim, left twisted and festering in their demise. The smell of ozone, lightning, and burned flesh tainted the air.

"Well, almost," Thor said with a chuckle. "I think perhaps I missed one."

Loki dropped his gaze. He panted in the cold as if he'd been running for his life. Dressed all in black, from his high-necked collar to the soft leather of his gloves, Loki's skin was every bit as pale as the snow accumulating on his shoulders and hair.

"Haven't you anything to say?" Thor gestured to the massacre around them. "This is what you wanted, is it not? An end to the monsters that threaten our realm. We've planned this since we were boys."

He dropped a hand onto Loki's shoulder, which earned him a flinch. Loki's muscles were coiled tight, and he trembled beneath the weight of Thor's grip, poised to run yet frozen in place. Thor tilted his head to one side to study the tempting rise and fall of his brother's neck and soon found he couldn't resist. Moving in to nuzzle Loki there, Thor parted his lips and exhaled with pleasure as he tasted snowflakes and Loki's pulse beating wildly against the heat of his tongue.

"Don't forget your promise, little shadow," Thor whispered against the wetness he'd left on his brother's skin, both warming and cooling it with his breath. He gripped Loki's chin and forced it upward, then left a gentle kiss on the slope of his jawline. "You said you would no longer run from me, and we both know there is one beast still unaccounted for."

With his chin still captured in Thor's hand, Loki labored for every breath. The green was gone from his eyes, replaced by a smoldering red, and his skin had cooled both in temperature and color. The ornate lines of his ancestry ran like tears down his face. Thor smiled at the Jötun's obedience and lifted Mjölnir to deliver the final, killing blow. It was what his brother had asked for, after all.

* * *

Thor did not gasp when he awoke from the dream but merely opened his eyes to stare at a patch of sunlight dancing along the ceiling. His hands were tightened into bloodless fists, and his teeth were clenched together hard enough to pain him. Though his mind had been kind enough to wake him before he witnessed the final moments of the nightmare, that didn't stop his imagination from filling in the blanks.

Twice now, he'd dreamt of Loki's death.

It was times like these he feared he'd inherited his father's gift of foresight. Odin had once told him such visions were rarely literal and required quiet contemplation before deciding their meaning—but Thor did not want to think upon such things at all. In spite of the connection he and Loki had made last night, Thor could not shake the feeling he was still on the brink of losing his brother.

Something felt wrong. The angle and glare of the sun on the ceiling bothered him. Intermingled with the city noise was a roaring sound that grew louder and more insistent by the second. What was that? Thor shoved the blanket aside, pushed himself upright in bed, and listened.

Loki was already awake and stood at the closed balcony doors with his back pressed to the glass panes. He watched Thor with a mixture of weary sadness and a touch of fear that was a little too close to the look he wore in the nightmare.

"What is it?" Thor demanded. He was out of bed and on his feet at once.

The bruise-like shadows beneath Loki's eyes revealed he still felt the effects of his overindulgence the prior evening. However, he had cleaned himself up and dressed in clothing Frigga had brought from Asgard—fitted black pants and a soft, sage-colored tunic that was a size too large for him. It sagged low enough to reveal the prominence of his collarbone. Though his appearance was much improved from the sad state he was found in, Loki was still far removed from his old self. His hair was clean, but the curls were not tamed into their usual order. He had also neglected to put on shoes, and the tips of his fingers were stained black with ink. There was a mess of loose paper at his feet—most pages still blank, others crumpled or torn, and one half filled with small, carefully printed words.

He jerked his head ever so slightly toward the windows at his back. "It would appear our presence in this realm has not gone unnoticed."

Thor placed a steadying hand on Loki's shoulder and peered through the glass. The roaring sound in the sky had grown loud enough to make the balcony doors rattle. "The tracker?" he guessed.

Or worse. It could be Asgard, come to collect them. Odin would have learned of Thor's treasonous declaration by now. Heimdall would not be able to overlook that, regardless of their friendship.

But a quick look outside revealed something unexpected. Lined up in front of the apartment building were imposing black vehicles with flashing red and blue lights. The streets and sidewalks were blocked off with flares, which filled the air with smoke and prevented the flow of traffic and pedestrians. There were several dozen individuals, clothed in black and armed with weapons, taking their place at various locations around the building. Some hid behind the armored doors of their vehicles while others poured into the first floor lobby. A few were even visible in windows and on rooftops across the street. The roaring sound above revealed itself to be a quinjet attempting to land on the apartment building's roof.

"Unless the All-Father's tracker has rallied the citizens of Midgard to his cause," Loki said, "I would venture to say the answer is no."

"Is that all?" Thor blew out a breath of relief. "A handful of mortals pose no threat to us. Father could have sent an army to overtake us in our sleep, and I don't relish the idea of battling our own people."

Loki's expression hardened. " _Your_  people. There are billions residing in this realm, Thor. Exactly how do you intend to evade them? Strike them down one by one with your mighty weapon? I've lived long enough amongst them to understand they do not respond to threats with fear and obedience. For each mortal who falls, a hundred more will materialize. I daresay your arm would tire before the job is done."

The words made Thor wince, for they reminded him of the bloody massacre from his nightmare. "Why do you assume I mean to attack? Or demand obedience, for that matter."

Loki scoffed. "Did you hit your head very hard when the All-Father banished you here, or have you at long last developed a rudimentary understanding of irony? It wouldn't be the first time you've neglected the art of diplomacy in a peaceful realm."

The quinjet was on the roof now, and the wind it generated gusted past the windows, down to the streets below. There, ordinary citizens could be seen filing out of the apartment entrance, led by the operatives dressed in black. Whoever had come for Thor and Loki, they were evacuating the building. Thor narrowed his eyes, focusing in on a man who had taken up position on a rooftop across the street. He was armed with a bow and was looking right at them. Thor pulled his brother away from the windowed doors.

It was tempting to brush Loki's comments aside and take charge of the situation at hand, as Thor had done countless times in the past. After all, it was his right as the eldest and heir to the throne to dictate how they, as representatives of Asgard, would respond to this unwarranted display of aggression from Midgard. Whether Thor chose to fight or mitigate tensions, it was Loki's duty to fall in line and support his brother's decision regardless of any differing opinions he had on the matter.

And yet, Thor couldn't rid himself of the memory of the Jötunheim nightmare, the events of which would never come to pass but contained just enough threads of truth to deeply bother him. Instinct demanded he ready himself for battle, but Thor leaned in close and squeezed his brother's shoulder instead. "Do you remember what I told you last night?"

A familiar vulnerability surfaced in Loki's eyes—the same look he'd worn before they'd fallen asleep, wrapped in each other's warmth, their ears ringing with every word they didn't dare speak out loud—but it lasted only the briefest of moments. His expression then transformed into a fortress of wariness. "As tempting as it might be to reminisce upon my most recent humiliation, I would remind you we have no time for this discussion at present."

"You were drunk," Thor pressed, "so allow me to remind you. I said I was on your side. That means I stand with you instead of with myself or anyone else. I have not always done so in the past, and the last time I failed, I led you into a battle with Jötunheim that never should have been fought. Nothing has been the same since that moment. I was not there for you when you needed me most, and I lost my brother as a result. After paying so great a price, did you think I would cast you away so easily again?"

The stone did not leave Loki's eyes, but it began to crack along the edges the longer he held Thor's gaze. Loki might be acting as though they were still at odds, but it was obvious he remembered what had transpired between them the prior evening—and it had not left him unmoved.

Were the morning quieter, without the threat of Midgard looming, Thor might have drawn his brother into an embrace and remained there as long as he was allowed. Loki's shoulder was warm beneath his hand, but Thor wanted to feel the full length of him. To share in every breath and heartbeat. He wanted the reassurance that Loki was alive and well—not in danger, as Thor's dreams seemed to indicate. He wanted to sit and talk honestly with his brother. To hear more about why he'd fled Asgard and sought refuge in a realm he hated. To clarify what he'd meant by those final words he'd spoken before they fell asleep. He wanted to know what Loki had written on the paper at their feet. But there was simply no time.

Footsteps could be heard in the hallway outside the front door. Someone was coming for them, but Thor ignored the commotion and pulled his brother closer until their foreheads touched. "Stop this," he demanded in a whisper, giving Loki a shake in the hopes that it would dispel the final shreds of mistrust between them. "Stop fighting me. We stand together from this moment on. Agreed?"

Loki exhaled in a rush and looked toward the front door. "I suppose we're about to find out."

* * *

The intruders surprised them with a polite knock on the door.

As Thor summoned Mjölnir to his hand, thus unblocking the entrance, he glanced back at his brother to see if he was ready to face their uninvited guests. Loki lingered behind. He seemed nervous, which was odd considering the minimal strength of their opponents. He might not have use of his seiðr, but even in his weakened state, his might was far greater than any mortal's. They had nothing to fear from Midgard.

Behind the door stood a trio of humans, headed up by a man wearing a suit and a smile that wasn't particularly friendly. "Hi there," Agent Coulson said. "Long time, no see."

It was a familiar face, yet Thor did not let his guard down. Though he recognized Coulson from his prior visit to Midgard a year ago, he'd had only limited dealings with him. Before he'd had the chance to truly assess the mortal's worth, Frigga had come to retrieve Thor to aid in the search for Loki.

Two other Midgardians stood behind Coulson—a red-headed woman with a focused, dispassionate gaze and a weapon strapped to her thigh, as well as a tall, imposing blonde man who looked like he had seen too much too early in life. Both were clothed casually rather than in uniform, but Thor recognized soldiers when he encountered them. Likewise, both he and Loki had not called upon their armor, choosing instead to dress as the humans did so as not to alarm them further.

"Greetings," Thor said in reply, hoping to relieve some of the tension.

"May we come in?" Coulson asked. His eyes shifted briefly to Loki before returning to Thor. "Seems like you've got quite the cozy place. Though I gotta admit, it's surprising to learn of you living here. I could swear I saw this apartment listed for sale in this morning's newspaper."

Thor's brow furrowed as he stepped aside to allow entrance.

"We call it squatting," Coulson explained with a tight smile. He made his way into the apartment but kept his distance, all the while eyeing the hammer held in Thor's hand. "You know, were it not for the surveillance tapes and hospital records we have on you, I might have thought I dreamed you up. Large, herculean man falls from the sky. Drops impossible hammer thing in the desert. Makes my agents look like playground bullies. Then disappears with hardly a trace, along with the impossible hammer thing. That was fun to explain to my boss. Oh, hey—before I forget. This was taped to your front door."

He slapped a Missing Cat flyer onto the kitchen counter. The picture on the front showed the same iron-gray feline that was peeking around Loki's legs to get a good look at their guests. Coulson gave the cat a friendly little wave before returning his attention to Thor. "How  _did_  you manage that exit, by the way? I had two of my agents tailing you, and they witnessed you being pulled up into the sky by some kind of light beam. Jane Foster's research gave us theories but nothing concrete. She wasn't able to tell us anything. Seems you left her company in a hurry, too. Call me crazy, but it strikes me that you're not from around these parts. And by 'parts,' I mean Earth."

Thor remained calm in spite of the name-dropping of Jane. "I assure you, my brother and I pose no threat to your realm. We are here on peaceful terms."

"Oh, you brought the fam this time around?" Coulson beamed at Loki. "Gosh, I wish you had told me in advance. We could have booked you both a room at the Ritz Carlton—preferably the one furthest away from a heavily populated city. As it stands, you've drawn quite a bit of attention to yourself. A few days back, we were flooded with reports of strange lights in the sky. Seems a couple of businessmen witnessed what they called a wormhole opening up. The description bore a remarkable resemblance to what my agents reported. Happened again the next morning during a thunderstorm. Out in the desert, that sort of thing isn't as noticeable, but here in the city, it's a bit more difficult to keep under wraps. There was a great rooftop surveillance video of it online that we managed to pull down before it went viral. Who's the pretty lady who came to visit you, by the way?"

Thor's frown deepened. "You speak of the queen of Asgard. My mother."

"Asgard," Coulson repeated as if he was unfamiliar with the term. "Right. And what about the armed gentleman we saw in surveillance footage last night? You know, the one that murdered an innocent man right in front of you at a club across town? Was that your uncle Joe? Seems like the whole family's in town."

"The tracker is no kin of ours," Thor said, "nor do we sanction his actions. Do with him what you will."

"Tracker?" said the red-headed woman.

Thor met her calm, unblinking eyes and offered an uncertain smile. "It is a long tale."

"I'd love to hear it," she replied without returning the smile. "He anywhere nearby?"

Thor hesitated before responding. "I feel I should warn you. The tracker is tasked with my brother's protection, and he is not under our control. As you witnessed, he killed last night after perceiving a threat to Loki's safety, and your actions here could provoke him again. You would be wise not to attract his attention."

"Is that a warning or a threat?" the blonde man asked. His voice was just as weary as his eyes, but he spoke with authority. "Why does your brother need protection?"

"He doesn't," Thor said, "because I am here. I say again—we mean your people no harm. My brother and I are here only long enough until we are able to return home. Once we depart, the tracker will trouble you no more."

"Good to know," Coulson said. "But that's not why my associates and I dropped by. Something that belonged to us went missing the other night. Left a bunch of my colleagues dead, as well as an enormous sinkhole out in the middle of the desert. Swallowed up an entire research facility. Know anything about that?"

Thor met his brother's eyes. He'd remembered something from yesterday—Loki staring in disbelief at television screens in a shop's window. There had been a newscast about a sinkhole in the desert.

"You see, we went to a lot of trouble to put together a team capable of tracking our missing item's whereabouts," Coulson continued without waiting for a response. "I don't really understand it all that well myself—something about gamma signatures—but we've managed to pinpoint its location within half a mile. Guess where that radius landed us? I just love New York in early spring."

"We've taken nothing," Thor said, "nor have we anything to hide."

"Excellent," Coulson said. "Then you won't mind coming with us to answer a few questions."

"And if I do mind?"

"That would be unfortunate. The last time we met, I took a gamble on you and let you out of my custody even though I knew damn well Donald Blake was no M.D. turned astrophysicist. I'd love to say this is all one big misunderstanding and welcome you with open arms to our planet, but first we need to establish what happened and locate what belongs to us. The way SHIELD sees it, we're on the brink of a war with no idea who our opponent is. Your cooperation in this matter would go a long way in backing up all you claim."

"This item that was stolen from you," Thor said. "It must be very valuable. But treasure seems a foolish reason to wage war."

"It's not treasure," Coulson said. "It's a weapon. And reclaiming it will mean saved lives."

"And you believe this weapon is safer in your hands than in another's?"

"Considering the dozens killed when it was taken from us, I'd say yes. We're the good guys. We want to keep it safe and out of dangerous hands."

Thor looked at each of the humans in turn. He had little reason to trust them but also no reason not to, especially when he considered they had enough honor to confront him face to face rather than engaging in a blind attack. "We will come with you and lend our aid if we can," he said. "As a show of goodwill."

"As a show of goodwill," Coulson echoed in agreement. "Though I don't supposed there's any chance of convincing you to leave the hammer here with the cat, is there?"

* * *

With Mjölnir firmly in hand, Thor and his brother were led up to the rooftop of the building. The quinjet awaited them, along with a dozen armed SHIELD agents. Whatever this stolen item was, it was obviously of great importance to them. Without warning, a man garbed in a suit of iron dropped out of the sky and landed with a heavy thud on the rooftop. He straightened and looked dead at Thor and Loki. The helmet's eyes were lifeless yet seemed to glare at them.

"Cool hammer," the man said. "You own the patent on that thing?"

Thor scowled at this new threat, knowing the tracker was likely nearby and watching them. "Is this display of force necessary? You are endangering yourselves."

"Relax," the red-headed woman said. "Keep it in your pants, Stark. They're cooperating."

"Agent Romanoff," Tony Stark said to her in greeting. To the blonde man, he added, "Captain."

"Load up," Coulson called to his agents. "I want this building cleared in five."

It wasn't until the quinjet left the city and was out over open ocean that Thor at last felt comfortable enough to speak to his brother. Agents Coulson and Romanoff were in the cockpit, while Captain Steve Rogers and Tony Stark stood just out of earshot, engrossed in a tense conversation of their own. The sound of the engines afforded the brothers further privacy. Not that Thor had anything to hide from them, but he did not care for the scrutiny.

"They are untrusting of us still," he said to Loki, "but that will soon come to an end once the true culprit is brought to justice. This weapon they speak of—father will want to know what it is. That is why I agreed to come."

He paused and waited for his brother's reply. When it didn't come as expected, he added, "You're certainly quiet. I've never known you not to whisper strategy in my ear during a confrontation."

Loki's jaw tensed. He stared straight ahead.

"They cannot hear us, Loki," Thor pressed. "And what does it matter if they do?"

And still, the silence endured. Thor found himself studying the rigidity of his brother's posture, the stubborn jut of his chin, the pursed lips that hinted at a bitten tongue. Though Thor was not always successful at interpreting the dizzying complexity of Loki's moods, he thought he might recognize this one. He'd seen it before, and it did not typically herald moments of honesty from Loki. His brother was hiding something.

Thor chose his next words with care. "Loki," he said quietly. "What are they looking for?"

Loki stiffened—a response at last, though not a reassuring one. "How should I know?"

Thor stared at him. Loki was not as good of a liar as he wanted people to believe. Beneath his discomfort, he looked inexplicably angry. "You've left me wondering the same thing."

It wasn't an accusation exactly, but when Loki finally looked at him, his outrage revealed he'd taken it as one. "And here I was led to believe you were  _on my side_. Has that changed in the last hour?"

"No," Thor said. "Though it would help to have your honesty and trust in return."

"Likewise," Loki bit back. "All this effort you've put into winning me over. Declaring us brothers when we aren't. Actually making me think I had an advocate for once. And what happens the moment something goes awry? You point the finger at me, yet wonder why I struggle to believe your claims of affection."

Thor's temper flared to life. "You know damn well my love for you is real. Do not question it again."

Tony and Steve's conversation faltered, and they glanced in the brothers' direction. Loki's face heated until color stained his cheeks. He looked away again, either unwilling to respond or uncertain what to say.

Thor waited until the others returned to their discussion before trying again. He placed a hand on the back of Loki's neck, hoping it would soften his words as well as his brother's mood. "Last night, you told me to be wary of you. That you're not the person I thought you were. You have my loyalty, Loki, but what am I to think when you say things like that?"

Loki gave a weary chuckle. "Of all the times for you to finally listen to me."

Thor's heart sank into his stomach. "Brother. . . ."

But no other words followed the endearment. Though still plagued with questions, Thor wasn't certain he cared to voice any of them. And so he fell silent for the remainder of the journey, his thoughts troubled, his fingers tangled in the soft hair at the nape of Loki's neck, wondering all the while if he was trying to reassure his brother or himself.

Whatever the truth was, one way or another, it would soon come to light.

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't name all the Avengers present in this chapter. In case you blinked and missed it, there was a brief reference to Clint. He was on a neighboring rooftop, keeping watch with his bow.
> 
> I don't plan to rehash the first Avengers movie, but I hope you enjoy the reimagining of a scene or two. Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, encouragement is always appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Vague mention of self-harm. Skip the first section if you want to give that a miss.

_The great well of anger burning within Loki frightened him at times. For too long, it had gone unacknowledged—like a pocket of magma building up pressure, driving cracks through to the surface of his sanity. Oh, the places his imagination could drift if he allowed it. The sins his mind was capable of . . . ._

_He would start with Jane Foster, for Thor had gifted her with the warmth and regard Loki had coveted from his place in the shadows. How he hated her for so easily capturing that which was denied to him. But even as his anger serenaded him with visions of his brother's anguish over her loss, the dark workings of Loki's mind sickened him._

_How had he never realized before now that a monster lurked beneath the lie of his skin? It was so painfully obvious what he was inside._

_Perhaps not Jane Foster. No, he needed a target without a soul. Something every bit as hideous and evil as he felt inside. Jötunheim, then. Laufey._

_With the Tesseract in Loki's possession, he could craft something that rivalled even the power of the Bifröst. What better way to satiate both his fury and self-hatred than to pluck that realm of monsters from the branches of Yggdrasil and let it fall into nothing? He knew the All-Father would punish him for it, but the promise of irony was simply too good to pass up. Odin's desire for Loki to bring about lasting peace would finally come to fruition. (After all, the dead were peaceful.)_

_All he had to do was reach out and claim the Tesseract as his own. But he didn't._

_He watched it from a distance and coveted its power because he felt powerless. He fantasized about using it to hurt others because it distracted him from his own hurt. He raged at Thor in his mind because his brother had not found and stopped him yet. He longed to be loved so much, he wanted to cut his own heart out so that he could not feel it anymore._

_The aimless twist and turn of Loki's thoughts eventually paralyzed him into inaction. Left without a target, his anger soon turned inward. It gutted him—emptied him of everything—until one day, Loki woke with swollen eyes and fingernails stained with his own blood to the realization that he was tired. So very, very tired of caring._

_He no longer felt angry. He no longer felt anything._

_That frightened him most of all._

* * *

The quinjet descended from the clouds and landed on what Thor first assumed was a large ship drifting along in one of Midgard's oceans. The gentle rise and fall of the craft betrayed its immense size and weight, and not even the strong gusts blowing in off the water had much effect on it. The dark color of the ocean revealed its depth, but the call of seagulls flying in the distance meant they had not strayed too far from the coast. The air was cold and tasted of salt and brine.

When Thor exited the rear of the quinjet, what he saw immediately gave him reason to regret agreeing to come. This was no mere ship. After a brief study of its design, it did not take him long to realize it was an aircraft. A helicarrier, he heard someone call it.

There were dozens of humans carrying guns, as well as smaller jets on the tarmac that were fitted with missiles. In addition to that, it was not difficult to guess Midgard's finest warriors were among them. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers never took their eyes off the brothers. Though Thor remained confident all of this presented no threat to his or Loki's safety, he was not convinced the tracker would agree.

"This is unwise," Thor said.

Loki stepped off the quinjet behind him, and the wind whipped his dark hair into his face. He ducked his head down and muttered, "Finally noticed that, did you?"

An old irritation itched at Thor's spine. It was not Loki's place to question him in front of others. But if he was trying to bait Thor into a reaction in response to their earlier conversation, he would find only disappointment.

Thor turned to acknowledge Coulson, who had joined them on the tarmac. "Instruct your men not to aim their weapons in our direction. Do not threaten us, whatever you do."

Coulson wore dark glasses to shield his eyes, but it was obvious he was looking at Mjölnir when he said, "Don't give them a reason to, and we shouldn't have a problem."

Before Thor could press the issue, he was interrupted by the sound of the helicarrier's great engines roaring to life. Agent Romanoff passed them by and called over her shoulder, "We should get inside. It's about to get windy."

* * *

A line of masked guards armed with heavy weaponry escorted the brothers into the cold, sterile depths of the helicarrier. Thor disliked the enclosed feel of it, with its artificial light and walls made of metal. This was an aircraft designed for battle, no doubt boasting some of the most advanced technology Midgard had to offer, but compared to Asgardian design, it failed to impress him. He had not realized how incredibly ill equipped Midgard was to defend itself against any real threat from other worlds.

Thor allowed Loki to take the lead so that he could guard his brother's back, and as the helicarrier took flight, the group descended to a narrow corridor lined with closed doors and windows covered with blinds. Through the slits could be seen the glow of computer monitors and the occasional individual stopping to stare.

In time, the brothers were led into a large, circular room with multiple levels and railing put in place to protect from a fall. At its center, a gangplank led to an imposing, glassed-in container illuminated with harsh, unnatural light.

The moment they spotted it, Thor and Loki stopped walking at the same time.

This inspired the guards to halt as well. Muscles tensed. Fingers tightened on weapons. At the rear of the group, Steve Rogers raised his chin, calmly watching them over the heads of the guards, waiting for the brothers' next move.

"Do you think us fools?" Thor said, undaunted by the rising tension. "We came here to aid you. My brother and I will not submit ourselves to imprisonment."

"Relax," Coulson said as he came up from behind. "It's a room meant for questioning. Standard procedure."

"No," Loki said evenly. "That is a cage."

"You're not wrong," said a new voice.

Upon hearing it, Thor couldn't help but notice that Loki stiffened, as if in recognition.

The guards parted to allow a tall man dressed in a black leather coat through. He possessed only a single eye, and like the All-Father, wore a patch to conceal the scarred remainder of the one he'd lost. His expression was hard and weathered—but also contained a surprising edge of weariness. This was a man who had witnessed tragedy before and was desperate to prevent it from happening again.

"That room was built to help me sleep at night," he said, "and you volunteering to get in it would go a long way in helping the people on this carrier feel safe."

Thor chuckled. "You think caging the sons of Odin will make you safe? If we meant you harm, the disgraced ruin of your aircraft would already be at the bottom of Midgard's ocean."

Loki groaned and covered his face with one hand.

"That was meant to be reassuring," Thor clarified.

"Strangely, it wasn't," the man said. "But all right. We'll have our chat face to face. Just understand that makes me and everyone else in this room a little twitchy."

"You are the captain of this vessel?" Thor asked.

A terse nod. "Nick Fury. Director of SHIELD."

"Then it is to you I should extend a hand of friendship and goodwill from Asgard," Thor said, each word meant to prove to his brother that he was perfectly capable of diplomacy when it suited him. "We do not possess this weapon you seek but have come to help you reclaim it."

"Your cooperation is noted," Fury said. "But I find your claims difficult to swallow when my team tracked the Tesseract's energy signature to your location in the city. Care to explain that?"

Thor drew back in surprise. That was not the response he'd expected. "The Tesseract?"

"I see by your reaction that you're familiar with it," Fury said. "Care to explain that as well? By my count, few know the Cube exists—much less that SHIELD had possession of it."

Thor's eyes shifted briefly to Agent Romanoff, who stood behind Fury's left shoulder. He was keenly aware of the intensity of her gaze on him—perhaps more so than anyone else's in the room. She was of the sort who could see through a lie, and so Thor did not bother concealing what he knew. "It once belonged to our father, the king of Asgard. He removed it from our realm for safe keeping many centuries ago."

"That's quite a coincidence," Coulson said. "You showing up here on earth at the same time it goes missing."

"I don't believe in coincidence," Fury said. "You see, I've got a crater in New Mexico the size of four city blocks and a billion-dollar research facility smoldering at the bottom of it. You've been tied to New Mexico before, as well as to Dr. Selvig, who was aiding our research on the Tesseract. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Dr. Selvig?" Thor said slowly. A pit of doubt awakened in his stomach. "You mean Erik Selvig."

Coulson and Fury exchanged a glance. Coulson put his hand to the listening device he wore in his ear. "Copy that," he said to whoever was talking to him on the other end.

Fury took in a slow breath through his nose, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared at the brothers with renewed focus. It was not an agreeable look. Something had changed in the last five seconds that had given him further reason to distrust them, and Thor suspected it had to do with whatever Coulson had just heard over his earpiece. Fury wore one as well.

"I'm going to have to ask you gentlemen again to get in the cell," Fury said.

"Was Erik injured in the collapse?" Thor asked. "Was Jane there?"

Agent Romanoff tilted her head to one side as if trying to get a better look at him. Thor welcomed her scrutiny. Surely one as sharp as her would recognize he had nothing to do with this. All the same, he felt a small twinge of concern when her attention shifted instead to Loki.

Coulson whispered something to Fury, who nodded without taking his eye off the brothers. "Erik Selvig and Jane Foster are safe," he said. "In fact, Dr. Selvig headed up the team who traced the Tesseract to your location in New York. And did I mention they're still tracing it? They followed it, I should say. All the way from the city to this very spot over the ocean. Now that's one hell of a coincidence."

Thor was bewildered. What the humans were accusing them of was false, but they were right about one thing. This could not be mere happenstance. Someone on the helicarrier had the Tesseract—and Agent Romanoff kept staring at Loki.

Thor swallowed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Surely not. . . .

"Do you see the Tesseract here?" Loki asked. "As it was once in your possession, I'm sure you recognize attempting to conceal it within one's pocket would have unfortunate consequences. It burns through flesh, you see."

"I'm told you arrived here on Earth through a kind of wormhole," Fury said. "With that kind of technology, it's not a far stretch to think you possess the means to contain and conceal the Cube. Am I right?"

Thor opened his mouth to reply but faltered. Loki could hide items in interdimensional pockets.

"Ah, but the timing makes no sense," Loki said. "We have been in the city for days. Your own surveillance has confirmed we were not in New Mexico."

"You expect me to believe someone who can use a wormhole for intergalactic travel couldn't hop over a state-line or two in an instant?" Fury said.

Thor lowered his eyes. Loki didn't need the Bifröst's assistance to travel within a realm's borders. He could easily teleport himself from New York to New Mexico and return before anyone was the wiser. How many mornings had Thor woken up only to discover Loki already dressed and awake? He could have slipped out of the apartment while Thor slept if he wanted to.

But that was impossible. Loki's seiðr was contained. He could not teleport himself anywhere in his current state.

Unless he was lying about how helpless the tracker's dampening spell had left him. One of Loki's favorite tactics was to lure his opponents into underestimating him, and the tracker had already misjudged what it would take to subdue Loki once before. It had taken two darts to contain his powers, and he was in a pitiably weakened state at that time. Had Loki recovered more in the last week than he'd let on?

No. It was absurd. What reason would he have to claim the Tesseract?

Thor's memory answered the question for him. _I want to watch everything burn,_ Loki had said that first night, after Thor had found him so dejected and full of sorrow _. Every man, woman, child, and beast. Every memory. I want them all wiped from existence and then to throw myself into the fire afterward and become nothing._

"Listen, boys," Fury said. "I've had a long day. Tell us where you've hidden the Tesseract. And in case you missed it, there's an implied 'or else' at the end of that request. Don't make me do more than imply it."

Thor lifted his gaze to his brother's face, silently willing him to speak up if he knew something.

"What are you looking at me for?" Loki snapped.

_What are you hiding?_ Thor wondered.

But he didn't say it out loud. That was a conversation he and Loki needed to have in private.

Fury sighed and made a gesture. In unison, every guard in the room shifted position and aimed their guns directly at the brothers. "Time's up," Fury said. "I want answers."

With a sinking feeling, Thor glanced at each of them in turn. Every mortal on this aircraft was endangered by their own ignorance. He'd hoped the situation would not escalate to this. How foolish it was to come here. They had no idea of the misfortune they could bring upon themselves.

Eager to reestablish the calm, Thor placed Mjölnir on the ground and lifted his hands. "Tell them to lower their weapons. We can resolve this peacefully."

"Happy to," Fury said. "Right after you get in the cell."

"I'll handle this." Tony Stark, still garbed in his suit of iron, shouldered his way through the guards. He lifted one hand, and a disk on his palm flared to life, powering up with the promise of violence. "Both of you," he said, jerking his head to one side. "That way. Shoo."

Thor growled in response to this new threat but started backing up in compliance to the mortal's demands.

" _Thor_ ," Loki protested.

"Move." Thor turned, seized Loki's arm, and dragged him toward the entrance of the glassed-in cage. Only after they were inside and the doors shut behind them did Thor's grip on his brother loosen.

Loki wrenched his arm away. "What is _wrong_ with you? Do you honestly think their flying bits of metal could do us any harm?"

"Do _you_ think the tracker won't rip this entire place apart?" Thor yelled back. "What happened the last time he witnessed an insignificant threat to your safety?"

Loki flinched in the face of his brother's anger. "Don't be ridiculous. I've seen his bag of tricks. He isn't that strong."

They felt the explosion before they heard it. The ground jolted, lights flickered, and then a dull boom filled the air and shook the windows of the cage.

"Yes," Thor said through his teeth. "He is."

Through the glass, the guards could be seen looking in all directions for the source of the threat. Overhead, the lights swung back and forth, and under their feet, the floor began to tilt worrisomely to one side. A second explosion, this one much closer than the last, sent them all running from the room at Director Fury's command.

Loki hissed out a breath, his hands sliding along the walls to help him keep his balance. "Damn."

Eruption after eruption rocked the helicarrier—half a dozen explosions in quick succession. Smoke filled the air outside the cage, and alarms blared through the overhead speakers.

Only a few steps from the door stood Agent Romanoff. She was half-crouched in order to steady herself as the helicarrier continued to tilt to one side, and she watched the brothers as if trying to decide something.

"The tracker?" she guessed, one eyebrow twitching upward in time with the question.

Thor stepped forward to address her. "Release us. We will help you."

"That's not my call," she said. "And I suggest you don't attempt to break out of that cell on your own. Trust me on that."

"If you will not free us, then heed my warning," Thor said. "The tracker can conceal himself with invisibility. He uses a long range weapon and avoids direct confrontation like the coward he is. Where you find an explosion, he will be far from it. Should he reveal himself, do not engage him, for he will not fight with honor."

"You don't think we can win this," Agent Romanoff observed. She grabbed onto the railing as another distant blast nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Nay," Thor said. "You should concentrate your efforts on keeping this vessel aloft."

She hesitated only a moment longer, then put her hand to her earpiece. As she rushed from the room to aid her colleagues, she began communicating the information Thor had shared with her. With her gone, the brothers were left alone in the cage with no one to guard them.

"They're turning us around," Thor said as he felt the changing movement of the aircraft. "Taking us back to land." He pressed his hands to the thick glass, looking for a weakness in the design. "We have to help them."

Loki barked out a laugh. "Then you probably shouldn't have gotten us _locked up to begin with_."

"Calm yourself," Thor said. "I will break us free. Shield your eyes." He backed up a few steps and extended his palm to summon Mjölnir, which was still outside the cage.

"Did you not hear what that woman said?" Loki protested. "Thor, _stop_."

Mjölnir hit the glass with a mighty blow, and did a fine job of cracking it from top to bottom—only the cage jolted and rocked ominously in response. The brothers were forced to brace themselves against the wall, and they held very still until the movement ceased.

"What was that?" Thor asked.

Cautiously, Loki turned to peer through the window in search of the problem. "A failsafe against escape, no doubt. The mortal's warning did not strike me as mere conjecture."

Thor joined him and strained to see the mechanisms that held the cage in place. It appeared solid enough, but he could see now that it was designed to retract and release. When he turned his attention in the opposite direction—at the floor of the room far below—his fears were confirmed. Beneath them were bay doors designed to open downward. There was little doubt what lay beyond that.

"Another blow might trigger them to open," Loki said, having reached the same conclusion.

Thor looked to his brother and felt no small measure of guilt for the suspicions still ringing in his mind. But now that they were alone, he felt more at liberty to speak of them. "You could teleport us to safety," he suggested.

Loki dismissed the idea with a quick shake of the head. "You know I can't."

"Do I?"

"What does that. . . .?" Loki spun around to face his brother wearing a look of incredulity. "Are you _testing_ me? Trying to catch me in a lie? I cannot use my powers, Thor. The All-Father's tracker saw to that."

"You're awfully defensive today. I'm only trying to find a way out of this—"

"No, you aren't," Loki said. "I know you better than that. Speak plainly, brother."

"Very well," Thor said. "Do you have the Tesseract or not?"

Fresh anger flared to life in Loki's eyes.

Thor stepped forward at once and grasped his brother by the shoulders, hoping to reassure him. "I am not angry with you, Loki. But whatever you're hiding, look around you. These people are innocent, and they could perish if we don't act. Help me end this."

"So this predicament we're all in is my fault, is it? That's classic."

All around them, metal walls and fixtures creaked and groaned. The helicarrier jolted at regular intervals now—not the result of new explosions but evidence of failing engines. The angle of the room left little doubt that they were falling slowly from the sky. If Loki possessed the means to help them escape, he needed to speak up.

"The Tesseract followed us here, and I do not have it," Thor said.

"So that automatically means I do?"

"You've hinted before that I should not trust you—that you want to watch everything burn. You are in pain, brother, and you and I both know you have never been one to allow a transgression go unanswered."

Loki's eyes had filled with tears. He shook his head as if he had never felt wearier. "Just say it, Thor."

"I do not think you truly meant to hurt anyone. . . ."

"No, no. Say _precisely_ what you're thinking and be done with it."

Thor's heart ached. Why did everything have to be such a battle between them? He didn't want to say what he was thinking. He wanted Loki to outright refute everything, but he had yet to deny his involvement. "Did you take the Tesseract for a purpose?" Thor asked.

Loki laughed bitterly as tears spilled down his cheeks. "And there it is."

"You can tell me the truth. I will help you fix this."

"You know, I should thank you, Thor," Loki said. "Really. Your behavior has confused me of late. Things are much clearer to me now."

"Let me finish," Thor said. Though he put his hand on Loki's tearstained cheek, no amount of coaxing could persuade him to meet Thor's eyes. "I want to hear your side of this. Tell me you didn't take it. Tell me that, and I will bel—"

Thor trailed off abruptly. Movement in the corner of his eye had distracted him, and he focused over Loki's shoulder at the window. There, the tracker stood with his rifle in hand, watching the brothers' conversation with a twisted parody of a smile.

"Oh, don't mind me," he said with a casual wave. "I was simply enjoying the show. Hoping for a kiss, actually." He sneered.

"You," Thor said. He released Loki and stepped protectively between him and their new visitor. "End this madness _now_."

The tracker appeared unimpressed by Thor's anger and took his time strolling over to a nearby control panel. As he inspected it, he said, "I suppose one of these buttons should unlock the door. You know, the All-Father failed to mention how tiresome it would be to keep watch over your brother. I took out two of their engines, which should buy us some time. You're welcome, by the way."

Thor scoffed. "You think we owe you _thanks_?"

The tracker pressed a button, and the bay doors beneath the cage flew open in response. Light filled the room, as did a rush of air that unsettled the cage, causing it to rock to and fro. Far below them was the ocean, glistening silver and brilliant in the late morning sunshine. The coastline was visible. The helicarrier had made it to shallower waters, where it could hopefully find a safe place near the coast to land.

"I think perhaps that was the wrong button," Loki said calmly.

The tracker sighed and renewed his study of the control panel. "So many choices here . . . ."

"Stop toying with us," Thor said. "You know exactly what you're doing, and I do not take kindly to threats, indirect or otherwise."

"Need I remind you I've been employed to _protect_ your brother?" the tracker said. "Killing him would hardly achieve that end."

"Do you think this is what my father asked for when he acquired your services?" Thor said. "Why he has not come here already to put an end to your folly, I do not know. But believe me—when Heimdall tells the All-Father what you have done, you will pay dearly for crimes committed in his name."

"Thor," Loki said. "I really think you should stop talking."

"I see," the tracker said with a chuckle. "I suppose your ingratitude should not surprise me. You and I have always viewed things very differently. From the very beginning, you have been most unappreciative of my help."

"Open the door," Thor demanded.

"Have you not yet wondered why your watchman doesn't answer when you call?" the tracker said.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A satisfying one, I assure you. It's because he can't _see you_. Rather, he sees what I _want him to_. So no—he won't be telling the All-Father anything because there's nothing to tell. And as for you, Odinson, I highly encourage you to rethink your position on our business relationship."

Thor stared at the tracker, stunned into momentary silence. "Is that possible?" he asked under his breath.

"Hiding himself and others from Heimdall's gaze?" Loki said. "Yes. Manipulating what he sees altogether? I don't know. I'd like to learn that trick myself, to be honest."

"I have more than one active contract at the moment," the tracker said. "The All-Father is not my only client, and privacy in matters of business is imperative. Your watchman's gaze is . . . invasive. I'm sure you and your _beloved_ brother can sympathize. Really, you should thank me for helping to conceal all those quiet moments of intimacy the two of you have shared."

Thor was so unexpectedly furious that he went dead calm. "By my authority as son of Odin, I hereby terminate your contract with Asgard. Through your actions, you have declared yourself her enemy."

"Thor," Loki said. "Stop. Talking."

"You will open the door," Thor said. "And then I will accept your surrender."

The tracker's smile widened. "You know, you should really learn to listen to your brother. But what am I saying? If you knew how to do that, none of us would be here in the first place. And I must admit, I have _so_ been looking forward to this moment."

At the push of a button, the tracker sent the cage into a freefall—and the sons of Odin to their deaths.

To be continued

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I think it's pretty obvious who has the Tesseract at this point, but Imma let you guys speculate anyway.
> 
> This was the hardest chapter ever to write. I am intensely insecure about everything you just read, but I'm just thankful I got something posted. Yay for updated WIPs!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. The next chapter is one I've really been looking forward to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I need to take a moment to give credit where it's due. This chapter ties directly to the tumblr gif set that inspired the story. I have taken four lines of dialogue from it, as well as the scene setting. If you're enjoying this fic, please go check out [this tumblr post](http://vforvet.tumblr.com/post/36945638243/auloki-didnt-do-all-the-bat-shit-crazy-stuff-on) and like/reblog it.
> 
> Warning – This chapter contains some frank descriptions of depression and the symptoms that can sometimes go along with it. That may not sound like it deserves a warning, but "symptoms" is an innocent-looking word that can be used to describe Very Bad Things. This warning applies to the rest of the story.

 

_It was a peculiar inkling that inspired Loki to leave the desert. Little more than an itch. A doubt. A suspicion that someone was feeling around for the tendrils of his seiðr in order to pinpoint his whereabouts. So he left—and in doing so, abandoned any plans he had for the Tesseract._

_There was no longer any possible outcome of being found that appealed to him. He was full of shame—embarrassed of himself and what he was, of his stupidity for never guessing the truth, of his cowardice for having fled from Asgard to begin with. No, he did not want to be found. He wasn't ready to face their scorn—or the All-Father's plans for his future._

_The desert was his last connection to Thor. With any of them. Once Loki left it behind, he truly began to understand what it meant to be alone. Depression took hold of him and filled up all the empty spaces inside with its dense, suffocating weight. It slowed his steps and his wits. He became like a dead man walking—stoic and pitiless—and for several months, he wandered aimlessly from city to city in search of something he couldn't name._

_Mumbai, Reykjavik, Prague, Mexico City. He found he liked the larger metropolises best, for the feeling of insignificance brought him a keen sense of relief. Drifting along in a mindless swarm of bodies made him feel like a single atom in an infinite multiverse. He had no voice in the noise. No identity in the crowd. He could have stopped dead in his tracks and screamed or shown his true face or disappeared entirely, and no one would care. That was how little he mattered. Not even a realm of mayflies noticed his passing._

_The more polluted and crowded the city was, the better. He welcomed the grit and dirt, for these things covered up the fact that his own skin was filth itself. He rested his head in places that were abandoned, just as he had been, and though he stole food when he remembered to eat, he found he preferred the way hunger felt as it slowly sapped his life away._

_All of this was his way of flirting with the idea of nothingness—of testing out the feel of death to see if it was to his liking._

_Sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes it frightened him so much that he made a valiant effort to pull himself out of the quicksand of despair. In his younger days, recording his doubts and struggles in journals had helped him quiet his mind and put order to his thoughts, and so he obtained paper and writing utensils with the intention of sorting through it all. But every time he tried, he found he did not know where to begin. There was too much, and it all bottlenecked inside of him. Everywhere he went, he left crumpled, blank sheets of paper like a trail of breadcrumbs, each one of them a silent plea for help._

_By the time his wandering led him to New York City, Loki had realized that even though he did not want to die, he had already stopped living. He found an abandoned apartment high above the streets—high enough to get the job done in his weakened state, were he so inclined to try—but again, was paralyzed by indecision, just as he had been with the Tesseract. Left with waning energy and nowhere else to go, he slept a great deal and did very little else._

_Double doors led out to the apartment's balcony, and he sometimes left them open while he tried to muster up the nerve to make a decision. Only once did he actually step outside—but before he could do anything, he was stopped by a curious sound. A cat jumped down onto the balcony from the apartment above and meowed at him like a little bell amidst the city noise. It rubbed against his legs until he picked it up, and as he held it, he began to weep because he'd forgotten what it felt like to be touched. He missed his brother's warmth so much at that moment that he almost dropped his concealment spell and called out to Heimdall._

_Though Loki helped the cat find its way back to the upstairs balcony several times, it often returned and napped beside his head like it was guarding him. More than once, he wondered if the insignificant creature realized how many times it had saved his life._

* * *

Thor was not as much of a fool as his brother often presumed. He had heard Loki's warnings and knew the tracker would try to kill them by dropping them from the helicarrier. Thor simply didn't care. He was confident they would prevail, regardless of the odds, and refused to back down from what he felt was right.

He had a plan, of course—one that Loki would no doubt later describe as some variation of "punching his way out." The instant they fell and gravity took over, Thor called out to Mjölnir. The cage's glass was already cracked, and it would not take much to finish the job. Once Mjölnir broke through and joined with Thor's hand, he would grab Loki, and together they could fly to safety.

Only things did not happen the way Thor imagined they would.

What he did not anticipate was the way the cage began to roll and turn as it fell. Faster and faster every second. Earth and sky spun around them in a blur, and Thor lost all sense of direction. He and Loki were tossed about like bugs in a glass jar. They crashed into one another and were promptly ripped apart, and when Mjölnir finally reached them, the timing did not work in their favor. It hit the metal bottom of the cage and left only a dent before it fell away, for its master was too disoriented to maintain control of it.

They were still trapped. Still falling. Thor managed to grab hold of Loki's shirt, which stretched and ripped until the brothers finally got a good grip on each other. Thor launched them toward the cracked window of the cage, but his momentum wasn't enough. The glass shattered but held.

Only seconds remained before they hit the ground. Not enough time for another attempt at escape. Thor cursed and wrapped his brother up in his arms in order to take as much of the impact upon himself as he could.

But without warning, it all stopped. Reality burst into every color of the rainbow, and then came the sound of wind whistling in Thor's ears. He heard the cage crash into the earth nearby—only they were somewhere else.

By the time Thor opened his eyes, he had already figured out they were still falling. They were no longer in the cage but were instead out in the open air. He had no time to wonder how that had happened.

They hit the ground hard, and it took every ounce of his determination to maintain his hold on Loki. Together they tumbled and rolled until finally coming to a dusty stop in an overgrown field not far from the coast. Sunlight warmed Thor's back, and the sound of waves and seagulls could be heard in the distance.

At first, all Thor could manage was to struggle to breathe after having the wind knocked out of him with such force. Had they collided with the earth while still in the cage, they could very well have perished. Whatever had happened at that last moment had slowed their momentum, and they did not have time to regain enough speed to kill them when they landed. Even so, every inch of Thor's body pained him. His heart pounded in his head, and he tasted blood. But though he was still so dizzy that he could barely sit up, he forced himself to roll off of his brother.

Loki lay on his back with arms limp at his side, barely conscious. His eyes swam with fatigue and squeezed shut, but his lips remained open as he panted, evidence that he was still awake. It was then that Thor realized how they had escaped from the cage. He had seen his brother overextend his seiðr before. Loki's face had gone gray, and blood trickled from his nose and ears. Somehow he had tapped into his magic and teleported them to safety—or at least the closest thing he could manage.

"Brother." Thor smoothed Loki's tangled, wind-blown hair away from his eyes. "Look at me. Are you injured?"

"Let go of me," Loki whispered in reply.

"How did you teleport us? I thought you could not make use of your magic."

Loki sucked in his cheeks. "I was saving it up. _Let go._ "

Thor winced but drew back to allow his brother to sit up. Loki trembled as he wiped the blood from his upper lip, and he looked around with wet, red-rimmed eyes at the field where they'd landed. Waist-high weeds stretched toward the late morning sun, and the pollen in the air tickled the brothers' noses. Both of them were filthy—smudged with dirt, grass, and blood. Nearby was the twisted wreckage of the cage.

With a groan, Loki dropped his head into his hands. Teleportation had always drained a fair amount of his energy, but nothing like this. He couldn't have transported them more than a few feet—just to the other side of the cage's wall—yet he looked like he had carried them across an entire universe. A result of the tracker's dampening spell, no doubt.

His shirt was ripped and stretched-out at the neck, and it sagged low enough to reveal the cruel, winding branches of the tracker's mark on Loki's shoulder. At the sight of it, Thor felt sick with guilt. To think that for months, he had traveled alongside the man who did that to his brother. Not only that, but Thor had _helped him_. It was unkind enough to imprison Loki in such a way, but after seeing him nearly kill himself from overexertion while trying to save their lives, Thor knew it was time. He needed to free Loki from the binding and apologize for not doing it sooner.

Thor got to his feet and turned his attention upward. There, the helicarrier still fought to remain in the sky. Smoke poured from two of its engines, but one of them was functioning. The humans had managed to repair and restart it, and Thor felt confident the aircraft would be able to land safely on its own power. Even if the brothers were to return to offer aid, SHIELD might again seek to detain them. It would take too long to explain.

"We should leave," Thor said. "With us out of the way, the tracker has no reason to continue his attack on the humans. But if his binding spell on you is as strong as he claims, he knows you're not dead."

The tracker was a coward who would not face an opponent that was expecting him. If he still meant the brothers harm, he would wait until their guard was down to strike. But though they might be safe from him for the moment, Thor knew better than to share with Loki his real reasons for wanting to depart.

Once they returned to the city, Thor planned to contact Asgard, and Loki would no doubt react poorly to the news. But if it was true that the tracker could affect what Heimdall saw, it was up to them to make sure the king and queen understood what had happened here on Midgard. Not only had the tracker tried to kill them, but Thor now suspected he had the Tesseract as well.

It was only a theory, but the more he considered the possibility, the more sense it made. SHIELD had followed the Tesseract's energy signature as it traveled from the city to the helicarrier. While guarding Loki, the tracker had no doubt made that journey alongside them, clothed with invisibility. Not only was he a sorcerer who was able to teleport and hide objects from sight, but he had mentioned another contract aside from the one he had with Asgard. The implications were disturbing, especially considering that the tracker had been willing to make an enemy out of the All-Father. Who was more powerful than Odin?

But if it was true the tracker had the Tesseract, how did he know it was on Midgard to begin with, not to mention where SHIELD had it concealed underground? Thor was still missing vital pieces of the puzzle, and the mystery troubled him greatly. He needed to alert Asgard at once.

The tracker had somehow cut the brothers off from Heimdall's sight, but thanks to Frigga, Thor had another way to call home. But he needed to return to the apartment in order to use it.

"Are you well enough to stand?" Thor asked.

He returned his attention to his brother but soon discovered Loki was no longer seated upon the ground. Rather, he was walking away—stumbling at times—with his head bowed and shoulders stooped. Watching him, Thor felt strangely hollow inside. Where did Loki think he was going? Why hadn't he said anything?

"Brother?" Thor called.

But there was no response. Not even a hint of acknowledgement that he had spoken.

A bolt of panic—and then he stepped forward and said, " _Loki_."

Loki stopped walking and stood there without turning.

Thor stared at him. Though they were only a short distance apart, he felt incapable of crossing it. Like he could walk and walk forever, and the gap between them would persist. Somehow they had become untethered, and Thor knew in his heart that if he let his brother leave this place, it would be the last time he ever saw him.

He trudged forward through the weeds, eager to catch up and banish his fears. "Loki, come home with me."

Thor fully expected his brother's anger to answer him—to rear around, lash out, and attempt to cut him down a few sizes. He realized now he had acted recklessly on the helicarrier. This was not the first time his over-confidence had led him astray, and yet again, his brother had paid the price, just as he had on Jötunheim.

Loki had earned the right to be angry, but when he finally turned around, he only looked tired. His face was shut down, devoid of life, and he gazed back at Thor like he was a stranger.

"I don't have it," he said quietly.

Uncertainty slowed Thor's footsteps.

"Thor," Loki said. "If our past still means anything to you, do me one last favor."

But Thor was already shaking his head—already rejecting the request that was to follow because he knew what Loki was going to say. They were wasting time. They needed to make haste and depart. _Together_. Side by side, the way brothers should be.

"Leave me."

Thor stopped and lowered his gaze. Mjölnir lay on the ground at his feet, but he barely recognized that it belonged to him. "Do not ask that of me. Ask anything but that."

Loki again made to walk away but lifted his face to the sky before he took the first step. He looked around helplessly, as if no matter how much he wanted to get away, he knew he had nowhere to go. "I don't have it, Thor."

"Do you mean the Tesseract? I know you don't. You teleported us a few feet, and look at you. You couldn't have traveled to the desert on your own power. But why did you not tell me that before? You left me to wonder when you could have silenced my doubts in an instant."

"Because you were not far from the truth," Loki said in that dead, empty voice. "I wanted to claim the Tesseract for my own. I almost did. Sometimes I still think about it."

Thor waved the words away, refusing to allow them to sink in. "Brother, enough. Let us return to the city."

Loki ignored him and continued speaking to the horizon. "I followed you to Midgard, you know. After you were banished. I came to you for help, but you never did notice. Too distracted by that woman, I suppose."

Thor stilled. "When . . . when did you come to me? What are you _talking about_?"

"And after you left, it was Erik Selvig who led me to the Tesseract. I could have taken it then. I could have killed him. Him and your little Jane."

"No. This is your anger speaking—or perhaps your way of trying to rid yourself of me for good. It won't work, Loki. You are given to mischief at times, but I do not believe you capable of such a thing as that."

Loki gave a weary chuckle. "Now there's a laugh. Not fifteen minutes ago, you thought me capable of—now, how did you phrase it again? Of taking the Tesseract for a _purpose_. Really, none of this should come as a surprise to you. I am Jötunn, after all. I simply couldn't _help myself_ because that's what monsters _do_. If you had any sense, Odinson, you would take up your weapon and—"

Thor strode forward and spun his brother around. It did not escape his notice that Loki bore an expression of naked fear, but Thor gathered him into an embrace to put an end to that nonsense at once. Was Loki trying to incite his temper on purpose? To what end?

"Stop," Thor whispered, hugging him tight. " _Stop_."

Loki was no longer the emotionless shell that had stood in his place only moments before. He was shaking, and he pressed his face into his brother's neck as he said, "I don't have it. I swear I didn't take it, and I don't want to remember why I desired it to begin with."

"Shhh. I know, brother. Just stop."

"I can't." Loki had hold of Thor's shirt, and he twisted it in his hands until it was stretched and misshapen. "Having you here _hurts too much_. I was far better off before you found me. Yes, I was miserable, but I would have gotten through it on my own—just as I walked away from the Tesseract _on my own_. I would have come out on the other side, but not with you here bringing all the pain back to the surface. Gods, Thor. If you truly love me as much as you claim, for once in your life, _hear me_. Let me walk away before I do something I can never take back."

Thor had closed his eyes while his brother spoke, but it didn't help. Tears slipped out anyway and journeyed down his face until they reached Loki's hair. Thor drew in a great breath and captured his brother's scent in his lungs. He held it there, afraid to exhale, afraid to let go—because he already knew he had lost this battle.

"Where will you go?"

There was a long pause, as if Loki hadn't actually thought Thor would consider giving him what he'd asked for. "I don't know." Loki rubbed his face against his brother's shoulder, content to hide there for the moment. "Somewhere the All-Father cannot find me."

"All I ask before you depart," Thor said, hating every word even as he voiced them, "is that you first allow me to rid you of the tracker's dampening spell. If you are to be on your own again, I want you to have the means to protect and provide for yourself. I know you are strong and that you would find a way to survive, even without your magic, but I do not want you to have to struggle." He laughed bitterly. "And just think, with the spell gone, you will be able to hide from the eyes of Asgard once more. That should please you."

Loki was again quiet before he spoke. His fingers still worked at Thor's shirt as he asked, "How?"

* * *

The brothers said very little on the journey back to the city, both of them too raw and upset to speak. It was as if they had already exchanged their goodbyes, but the first part of their separate journeys took them along the same road. It was an awkward, painful manner to part ways.

Loki declined Thor's offer to fly them back to the apartment, and so they had to employ other methods of transportation. This took several hours, and Thor found himself lagging behind out of respect for his brother's desire to be alone. Whenever they walked and Loki pushed ahead, Thor did not attempt to keep up. They rode at opposite ends of the same train car, and though Thor often caught himself gazing sadly at his brother across the aisles of seats, Loki avoided locking eyes with him at all costs.

There were still so many things Thor wanted to tell him, but he refrained only because he had already said it all. Over the last week, he had told Loki repeatedly that he loved him and still thought of them as brothers. Thor had apologized for his actions and offered his loyalty and support. What was there left to say? Thor could not force a relationship upon him. Loki was broken, and holding onto him so tightly was only driving the cracks deeper.

By the time they reached the apartment, shadows had fallen heavily upon the streets. The afternoon sun had slipped behind the skyscrapers, leaving the city muted and cold. Thor caught up to Loki only when he stopped to wait for the elevator, and they rode up in silence. Together but separated.

There was a SHIELD agent guarding the door to the apartment, and neither brother was in any mood to waste time dealing with him. When they failed to heed his warnings to stop and put their hands up, he felt he had no other option. But after the bullet glanced harmlessly off of Thor's shoulder, the agent reconsidered the choices he'd made in his life, stepped aside, and allowed the brothers to pass without further protest. No pension was worth this.

Thor closed the door to shut out the sound of alarmed cries from other apartments down the hall, set Mjölnir down, and immediately went to the bedroom. There in the nightstand drawer was a trinket that Frigga had left for them—an Asgardian coin engraved with the queen's profile. There was an enchantment laid upon it, for Frigga knew that Heimdall was loyal to Odin first and foremost. She had wanted to leave her boys with a way to contact her directly in case they needed to bypass Asgard's watchman. Thor enclosed the coin in his hand and encouraged it to warm and awaken. Once it recognized the queen's son, he felt the enchantment release into the air. He smiled, knowing his mother would come as soon as she was able.

Also in the drawer was the letter that Frigga had left for Loki, still unopened. Thor eyed it for a moment, then snatched it up. He gathered together other items as well. A change of clothing, a warm coat, and what remained of the Midgardian currency. Loki would need them.

In the bathroom, the water turned on. Thor followed the sound of it and found his brother there at the sink, cleaning himself up. Loki met his eyes in the mirror but quickly looked away. He was shirtless, and water dripped from his chin as he scrubbed dirt from his hands. All over him were small cuts and bruises but nothing that would not heal in time, especially if he was granted his powers back.

"You will need proper clothing," Thor said, holding out a clean shirt and pants. "Change into this."

He expected Loki to protest but was instead surprised when the offering was accepted without commentary. While Loki dressed, Thor took advantage of the running water and washed his own hands and face—mostly to conceal the fact that his eyes were once again close to overflowing with tears. This was impossibly difficult for him. He dried his face, then handed his brother the towel so that he could do the same. Loki was now dressed in his new clothes—a pair of durable, black pants with a long-sleeved shirt the same shade. He would be able to hide in the shadows easily wearing that.

"The coat as well," Thor said, nodding at the garment he'd placed on the bathroom counter.

Loki sighed but obediently tugged it on. It was high-necked, water resistant, and warm enough to get him through the night should he not be able to find shelter.

Thor took the money, Frigga's letter, and her summoning coin and tried his hardest not to get emotional as he stuffed it all into his brother's pockets. He felt Loki's eyes upon him but didn't look up. Though Thor recognized he should explain himself and what he was doing, he knew the words would only choke him. "After mother removes the tracker's spell and you have gone, rest assured I will be hunting _him_. I will do my utmost to keep him off your trail, but be on your guard. I suspect it is he who has the Tesseract."

The tracker's mark peeked out from behind Loki's collar, and Thor forgot to stop himself. He reached out and touched it, sliding the tips of his fingers beneath the fabric and across his brother's skin.

"I will kill him for doing this to you," Thor vowed. "It was the fear of losing you that allowed me to tolerate these marks for as long as I have. I have been a coward. But though I have made many a mistake in the past, I hope you realize I have never meant you harm. I love you, brother." He tilted his head to one side and pressed his mouth to Loki's temple. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I love you so damn much."

Thor shifted downward so that he could leave another kiss on his brother's cheek. It was meant to be a final goodbye, but he found he wasn't ready to let go. Loki was so warm, and the feel of his skin was addiction itself. As his breath shivered out and tickled the water droplets still drying on Thor's throat, he cupped his little brother's face in strong, tender hands and fitted their mouths together.

The room seemed to grow brighter, more spacious. It spread apart and lost all shape and meaning in those brief moments as his fingertips explored the contours of Loki's jawline. Thor kissed his brother's lower lip first, for he had often been tempted by it. He found himself lingering there, tasting Loki's breath long after they parted, until it was made absolutely clear that this was no accident. There was no misunderstanding here. This was precisely what Thor wanted, and if Asgard could see, then so be it.

Twice more they kissed—slowly, still testing the waters—but afterward Thor pulled away, afraid of what he might reach for next.

"Forgive me," he said as he backed into the doorjamb. It startled him, for he'd forgotten where they were. In his mind, the entire realm of Midgard had fallen away until all that existed was the heat of Loki's mouth, the wet pout of his lower lip, the surprised flutter and fall of his eyelashes.

But no, they were still in New York. Still saying goodbye (as no brothers ever should) in a cramped apartment bathroom. The memory of Loki's hard, lean body was enough to make Thor grip his hair at the roots in order to give his hands something to do while he marched himself into the living room. Only when he made it a safe distance away did he look back.

Loki had come out of the bathroom with a dazed but cautious expression. His eyes were enormous. Thor's attention dropped to his brother's mouth, which was now red but not nearly as well-tended as it should be, and his breathing slowed as he thought of other ways to make those lips even rosier.

A knock sounded at the door, and once Thor regained his composure, he couldn't decide if he was relieved or upset that their mother had finally arrived. It was for the best, of course, but it was still a struggle to offer Frigga a welcoming smile when she opened the front door and peeked her head in. Thor went to her at once to hold the door as she entered.

"There is a troubled young man with a gun at the end of your hallway," Frigga said as she touched Thor's cheek in greeting. "I feel you boys might have company soon. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Now that Thor had snapped out of the moment shared with his brother, he could hear that Midgard's attention had once again honed in on their location. Sirens could be heard outside, likely summoned by the agent who was stationed at the apartment door. SHIELD was coming for them, but the threat was still far enough away not to cause immediate alarm. Thor covered Frigga's hand with his own and held it against his face, saddened once more, for he had remembered what he was about to ask her to do.

Frigga's teasing smile faded as she searched her eldest son's somber expression. "What has happened?" Her regard shifted to Loki, who still hovered by the bathroom doorway, looking very much like a cornered animal. "You are paler than before. My son, are you well?"

There was much to tell Frigga and little time to do it. Thor explained everything as concisely as he was able—about the tracker's betrayal, the stolen Tesseract, and the attempt made on the brothers' lives.

Frigga squeezed her eldest son's hands, showing both her calm acceptance of the facts as well as her support. "Heimdall has told us nothing of this, yet he was charged with guarding you both. Why would he keep such a thing from his king and queen?"

"It is possible he did not pay witness to the events," Thor said. "The tracker claims he can affect what Heimdall sees. Mother, you must remove his marks from Loki's skin."

Frigga visibly hesitated, and Thor was all too familiar with the glimmer of fear in her eyes. He knew exactly how she felt. After an uncomfortable pause, Frigga smiled at her youngest and said, "Goodness, look at you—all washed and dressed. My handsome boy appears ready for a journey."

Loki sighed and turned away. "I told you she would not do it," he muttered as he went into the bedroom.

"I understand your hesitance," Thor said to his mother when they were alone. "Believe me, I am struggling with it myself, but this is the right thing to do. You know that."

"I do," Frigga said. "Will you accompany him when he leaves?"

Thor's throat began to ache again. Was he really about to allow this to happen? "Loki's desire is to be alone. That is within his right to ask of us."

Frigga nodded but looked about as heartbroken as Thor felt. Still, she made no protest and fought to keep her expression neutral as she followed Loki into the bedroom.

They found him out on the balcony, leaning against the railing with his arms stretched upward to help the lost gray cat that had been living with them back up to the apartment above.

"Come inside, Loki," Frigga called. "I will need to inspect the tracker's marks before I remove them. I am unfamiliar with his magic."

Pausing to look out at the city, Loki gripped the balcony railing so hard that it creaked. A spotlight from an approaching helicopter fell over him, banishing him from the deep afternoon shadows.

It wasn't until Loki hung his head and reentered the apartment that Thor realized he was holding his breath. Something had never felt right to him about that balcony. He disliked it when the doors were open and immediately moved to close them. This drowned out some of the noise from the helicopter, which was now blaring at them over a speaker to surrender.

Thor glanced through the windows to assess the threat the helicopter posed but was unimpressed with what he saw. The feel of paper beneath his boots distracted him, and he looked down. There, trampled underfoot, were the wind-blown sheets of paper that belonged to Loki. Thor could make out his brother's handwriting upon them, but the words made no sense. It was as though they were written with a cipher, something that Loki had often used to keep his journal entries private when they were younger.

Frigga sat on the edge of the unmade bed and beckoned her youngest son to kneel in front of her. Though Loki did as she asked, he chose to stare over her shoulder rather than acknowledge her help. She tugged aside the neckline of his shirt to inspect the tracker's mark, and though Loki flinched at his mother's touch, he did not pull away.

"Where is the other one?" Frigga asked.

When it became apparent that his brother had no intention of answering her, Thor spoke up instead. "On his thigh. The left one."

The three of them fell silent as Frigga worked. She let her eyes drift shut in concentration, one hand on Loki's shoulder and the other stretching toward his leg. Soon, Loki began to shift uncomfortably. His breaths first quickened, then became ragged and labored. The sirens were very close now.

"This is no mere tracking spell," Frigga said, breathing hard herself. "He has been in your thoughts, my love. He has looked through your eyes. Oh, Loki—forgive me for not doing this sooner. I feel his seiðr all over you."

As he watched and listened, Thor felt his hands balling up into fists. So that was how the tracker had discovered the Tesseract's location. He had pulled the information straight from Loki's mind. "I am going to rip him apart," Thor said.

"You will have to wait your turn, I'm afraid," Frigga said. "No one touches my children like this. Loki, listen to me carefully. When I break the tracker's connection to you, he will feel it. He likely already has. I do not know how he will react, but your brother and I will deal with him should he appear. You will have access to your seiðr immediately, but be warned—the rush of it all flooding back might daze you. Do not overestimate yourself. Stop and reassess your stores after each use of your power."

"And keep moving if you can," Thor added. "Brother, do not forget that he tracked you across all of Yggdrasil. To this day, I know not how he found you. Keep hidden until we deal with him, and after that. . . ." Thor tried to swallow the ache in his throat and dropped his gaze. He could feel Loki staring at him again. "After that, do as you will. I will make certain no one else follows."

"And what of the All-Father?" Loki asked after a pause. "No doubt you both are about to commit treason by helping me."

"Asgard is your home, Loki," Frigga said. "Your father only wants to see you restored to your place there. You might have found reason to mistrust your family, but do not ever fear us. The knowledge of our love for you is the only burden I ask you to take when you leave here. Hold on to me now. This will not be pleasant."

Loki clenched his teeth, placed his hand on top of his mother's, and cried out. A rush of air blew the loose sheets of paper across the room, and the lights flickered and dimmed. Even the helicopter outside was affected by a glitch in its power supply, and the pilot was forced to pull away from the building to find a safe place to land.

Thor felt something like electricity crawling up his spine, and without thinking, he assumed a defensive fighting stance simply because he could feel how _powerful_ Loki suddenly was.

"It is done," Frigga said, panting as she opened her eyes.

When she removed her hand from Loki's shoulder, the tracker's mark was gone. Instead, the skin was left looking like Loki had been burned with scalding hot water. She put her hands on her son's flushed cheeks to cool them. Gone was his gray-tinged weariness, and he bore a look of surprise bordering on panic. His seiðr crackled in the air all around them, pent up for far too long.

"Easy," Frigga said as she stroked his face. "Remember your fundamentals. I know you feel invincible, but you have never been more vulnerable. You must focus. Should you try to harness your magic without first stopping to tame it, you will be torn apart."

Thor's pulse pounded as he watched his brother strong-arm his magic into submission. It was not an easily won fight. Though Loki was a brilliant tactician who could hold his own against any warrior in Asgard, his chief weakness was that he often lost focus. This had cost him a victory more than once. But with Frigga's help, Loki was able to quiet his overwhelmed mind and master his seiðr. He breathed in and out of his nose, slower and calmer each time.

"That's it, my love," Frigga said. "Do that before each use of your magic. You are ready now."

Thor placed his hand on Loki's shoulder and squeezed only once before letting go. They had already said their goodbyes, and SHIELD was practically at the door. "Go, brother."

Only Loki didn't move. He met Thor's eyes, his expression indecipherable. A hopeless mess of contradictions. Love and hatred. Fear and trust.

"What are you waiting for?" Thor asked. "You're free."

Loki's mouth thinned, an indication of his displeasure with the choices laid before him. "If I teleport us together," he said, extending his hand to his brother, "I will not be able to carry your weapon with us. That is beyond my strength."

Thor's heart swelled with hope, and he reached to accept Loki's hand before he had even finished speaking. "I will summon Mjölnir to us after we are settled," Thor said, and then looked to his mother. "Will you be all right?"

Frigga beamed at the sight of their joined hands, so pleased with this turn of events that she could not contain her relief. "I am the Queen of Asgard. Do you even have to ask? Take care of each other, my sons, and go with your family's blessing."

Loki's fingers tightened around Thor's, and the world again shattered into every color of the rainbow as he teleported them away.

* * *

When they reappeared, Loki had brought them halfway across the surface of Midgard if the disappearance of daylight was any indication. The darkened sky was filled with clouds instead of stars, and the night was hushed. They were in another city, though this one was smaller and colder than the last. There was a large church nearby, adorned with a hollow iron spire that was perfect for attracting lightning. Thor could hear the sound of lapping water somewhere close to where they stood.

"Where are we?" he asked, his breath freezing into clouds. Because he was on guard, his attention moved down the street to take inventory of each human he saw. There were only a handful of them and all appeared relaxed. The brothers were in no danger here.

"Stockholm." Loki released Thor's hand. "Far be it from me to pass up a chance for irony."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I cannot believe I actually brought you with me." Loki hugged himself and rotated in place to assess their whereabouts. "I can still feel him, Thor. The tracker. I am free from his binding, but there are . . . threads." He waved a hand in the air like he didn't know how to describe what he was sensing. "Traces of him, if you will. He might be able to follow us here if he desired. We should keep moving."

Loki had evidently acquired a newfound respect for the threat the tracker presented. No doubt, he felt violated, and being the older brother, Thor was eager to offer his protection. He was, however, distinctly aware of the absence of Mjölnir at his side. There was no use summoning it until they were able to stay in one place long enough to await its arrival, which could take some time. Though he was confident he could win a battle against the tracker without his weapon, Thor missed Mjölnir's comforting weight in his hand.

"Remember what mother told you. Before you attempt another working, stop and refocus your seiðr. Let the tracker follow if he dares. He is no match for the sons of Odin." Thor offered his brother a hopeful smile. "Not if we face him together."

Loki groaned and turned away. "You're about to get overly sentimental, aren't you? I can feel it creeping up the back of my throat. Like vomit, in case you missed the analogy."

But Thor's good mood could not be swayed by his brother's attempt to ruin it. He had never been more thankful for a chance to engage in an argument. His heart was full of joy and relief, and he wanted Loki to let down his defenses long enough to share in those feelings with him. "Can you blame me?"

"Yes," Loki said. "For a great many things. Often and without hesitation."

Thor caught his brother's arm at the elbow to keep him from walking away and waited until an elderly couple passed them by on the sidewalk before speaking again. "Why did you bring me here, Loki, when all you want is to get away from me?"

Loki did not answer at first. He stared down the street at nothing in particular but eventually found enough courage to say, "That is not always what I want."

"You said that having me close hurts you," Thor reminded him, "and that if I loved you, I would let you go."

Loki shrugged a shoulder, clearly uncomfortable with the progression of the conversation. "And yet you still have a hold on my arm."

Another smile tugged at the side of Thor's mouth, even as his brother wrested his arm free. They both knew he had already let Loki go, just as he had requested. Loki was the one who had reached back out again for Thor.

"If memory serves me right," Thor said, "yesterday you also told me I was cruel because I make you love me, then leave you behind to crater in my absence. Perhaps I got your meaning a little backwards, but it sounded to me like you were asking not to be left."

The foghorn of a passing boat sounded nearby, vibrating the air with its deep, mournful hum.

"Perhaps I was," Loki said, the words so delicately spoken that they were difficult to hear. "If you expect me to fully understand what I want right now, you are in for disappointment. The problem, dear brother, is that I hate you almost as much as I love you. Your actions on any given day can tip the scale one way or another."

Thor stepped closer to shield his brother from the wind. He tucked Loki's disheveled hair behind one ear. "You don't hate me."

Loki shut his eyes in resistance to the affection, but he didn't move away from it. "I do. I swear, I do."

"No, it's not hatred. It's an attempt to protect yourself because you still don't trust me. That has always been the problem between us, not only since I found you here on Midgard but from the very beginning. Loki, you and I have _both_ caused each other so much unnecessary grief."

Thor paused to let the statement sink in. It was a reference to things he had not yet spoken aloud. Namely, that Loki had also betrayed his trust when he had left Asgard. The hurt caused by that decision ran deep, but Thor still did not feel it was the right time to share exactly how much.

"You cannot earn trust back in a day," Loki said. "Or a week or a month, especially when one minute you're getting us tossed from the sky in a cage, and the next, you've pulled me into a . . . ."

He trailed off and let out an exasperated huff. But though he wouldn't finish the sentence, Thor followed the progression of Loki's thoughts easily enough. He was referring to the kiss back at the New York apartment . . . and now Thor was thinking about it as well.

"Brother," he said quietly—because the mood had shifted between them, and he wasn't quite certain how yet. "All I am asking is that you tell me why you brought me here in spite of that lack of trust. I want to know only so that I can keep doing whatever it is. Because while I do want to remain here with you, I also don't want to hurt you anymore."

He allowed Loki time to contemplate the question, and when the answer finally came to him, he looked up with eyes so green and lovely that Thor forgot to blink until his brother was done speaking.

"The reason you're standing where you are," Loki said, "is because you have my attention. You're right. I don't fully trust you, and I probably won't for a long time. But I am listening to you, Thor." He tried to smile, but the result was something far more heartbreaking to look at. "I'm listening. Is that good enough for today?"

Thor smiled and nodded. It was.

The brothers quieted as a small gathering of humans approached, but by the time the group passed them by, Loki had reached out and taken hold of the collar of Thor's shirt. Their foreheads came together, and they rested there, breathing each other's air, at peace for once.

Thor's hands found Loki's waist beneath his coat and felt the tension there at his core. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Loki said. "Something isn't right. I think we need to leave."

"Then let us depart. The more we change locations, the more difficult it will be to track us."

But Loki only ran his hands down Thor's chest in response, thoughtful and curious, all the way to the muscles of his belly.

It felt amazing, the way Loki touched him there, but Thor did not want to push too far. There was still too much uncertainty between them, and Loki had not yet revealed his opinion about what had happened back in New York. They were brothers, after all. There were many who would call the kiss they'd shared a sin.

"You've regained control of your seiðr," Thor said. "I can feel it. Right here." Gently, he squeezed Loki's middle, drawing out a little gasp from him. "What is stopping you?"

The question had a double meaning, of course. Did his brother want this as much as he did?

With eyes still open, Loki tipped his chin up and nipped at Thor's lips with his own.

After a brief moment of play, they kissed full on the mouth. But only once. It was a gesture full of hesitance and timidity. All the same, Thor found great pleasure in that kiss—treasured it, in fact—because Loki had been the one to initiate it. This was an answer to a question Thor had been asking for a very long time, even as far back as their boyhood, though the attraction was mostly unconscious then.

But all too soon, Loki withdrew, and his eyes darted away. "We need to leave," he said again. He took Thor by the hand and began walking toward the church. In between steps, they vanished from sight.

* * *

Though different in execution, teleportation shared many of the same principles as traveling by means of the Bifröst. This was the reason for the blinding array of colors that engulfed them on their brief journey.

However, Loki's range was far more limited than the Bifröst's, and he could not travel to another realm without something greater to act as a catalyst and extend his reach. How he had left Asgard without Heimdall's assistance was a mystery to this day—Loki must have found another road—but to teleport inside of a single realm was well within his power. If he had visited his destination in the past, it was even easier for him since the pathway was already carved out.

Loki's confidence as he strode seamlessly from one city sidewalk onto the next made Thor suspect he had already been to this place before. This was the third city they'd stood in within the span of a single hour, and it was by far the largest. Skyscrapers towered over them, and there were vast billboards made of brilliantly colored lights. Thor had studied Midgardian history and written languages as a boy and recalled enough from those lessons to recognize they were somewhere on the continent of Asia. Japan, he thought.

It was the hour just before dawn, but the sky was still dark enough that the lights of the city were dazzling in comparison. Row upon row of green and red traffic signals were stacked up as far as the eye could see. Bleary-eyed shop owners and overworked businessmen hurried about, determined to beat the morning commute that was soon to engulf the streets.

Loki dragged his brother down the freshly washed sidewalk, rushing for reasons he didn't explain. He appeared every bit as apprehensive as he had when they'd arrived in Stockholm.

"Loki?" Thor tugged on his brother's hand until he slowed.

"He is still looking for us," Loki called over his shoulder, "and he's angry."

"Good." Thor pulled at Loki's hand again, and this time, they came to a full stop. They were in the middle of the road but still within the confines of a crosswalk. People milled about them on all sides as they crossed the street, but Thor ignored them. For too long, he had waited for this. "Come here."

As Thor reached out to cradle his face, Loki licked his lips and said, "What are we doing?"

"No idea," Thor replied and then crushed his mouth to his brother's.

He was addicted to this now. Before he'd had only the briefest of sips and now wanted badly to drink deep. Loki needed very little encouragement to reciprocate in kind. They clutched at each other and made out right there in the middle of the street, not caring who might be watching or that the light overhead had switched from red to green.

It wasn't until an impatient car horn blared at them that the brothers were inspired to move. Even then, they lingered, needing just a bit longer. They eventually made their way across the street, and as Loki's kiss cooled and dried on his lips, Thor found himself laughing. Just before he stepped up onto the opposite sidewalk, Loki turned and laughed as well.

It was such a simple thing—that laugh. The flash of white teeth as he smiled. The way his skin crinkled around eyes that sparkled with mischief and amusement. But to Thor, it was like seeing a dead man come back to life. _That_ was his brother. Just a glimpse of him, but Thor had found him at last. Whatever this thing was between them, it had done more to snap Loki out of his despair than days spent trying to reason with him.

Thor's pace lagged momentarily as happiness filled him to the brim, and then he took up chase. The brothers jogged down the sidewalk, not because they were running away from anyone but simply because it was _fun_. This is what their time on Midgard should have been from the beginning.

They made it only half a block before Loki allowed himself to be caught. Thor backed them up against a storefront and whispered, "I've missed you," before they went at it again.

This kiss was deeper, more focused than the last. When one of them might have pulled back to breathe before, this time Thor held on and perpetuated the kiss. Their tongues soon got involved, and Loki gave a soft, pouting moan. Hearing such a suggestive sound come out of his brother for the first time in his life, Thor's mind immediately filled with images he knew he shouldn't entertain.

He pulled back to gaze down at Loki. The mood had changed again, this time to something that made it difficult to think. Time slowed as Thor ran his thumb across his brother's swollen lower lip, testing its fullness, and he groaned in frustration when Loki sucked the wandering digit into his mouth like the little tease he was. His tongue was like a silken furnace.

People stepped around them on the sidewalk, but the brothers were not part of the crowd. They were the center of each other's world. The owner of the store, a petite but formidable woman, came outside with a broom to inform them their lack of etiquette was not appreciated or welcome in front of her window. With a murmur of acknowledgement, Thor guided his brother into an alleyway at the side of the building and sucked on Loki's neck until his knees buckled.

He felt the unmistakable iron of Loki's cock against his upper thigh, nudged right next to Thor's own erection, and knew there was no going back. He palmed his brother's ass with both hands and then, growing more daring, delved lower and slipped in between to rub at the seam that ran down the middle of Loki's pants. Thor pressed the fabric almost hard enough to rip it, over and over again, driving his fingers deeper until he was penetrating his brother with the hard nub of the seam. Loki made a kind of keening sound that Thor quickly silenced with his mouth.

When they broke away, he kneed Loki's thighs apart and said, "Take us somewhere private."

" _Fuck_ ," Loki gasped as Thor continued to thrust his fingers between the slit of his ass.

It took a minute to gather enough focus for the teleportation, but Thor tormented Loki by rubbing at his abdomen and thighs—everywhere but his cock—until he complied. He squeezed his eyes shut and again carried them to another destination on Midgard.

Wherever they reappeared, it was humid, and a gentle drizzle fell from the sky. They were on top of a building, close to a stairwell, but other than a brief pause to confirm they were alone, Thor did not bother to gather any other details about their whereabouts. He didn't care if it was dawn or dusk or how high up they were or if the ground was solid beneath them. All that mattered was the drag of Loki's zipper as Thor tugged it downward. He guided Loki back against the concrete wall that enclosed the stairwell.

Thor could feel the heat of Loki's cock before he touched it. The skin was like velvet wrapped around steel, and as he gave it a series of good tugs, Loki's fingernails dug into his shoulders. He let out another stream of filthy little words, and Thor's eyes darkened to near black. Suddenly, what he was doing wasn't enough. He fumbled with his own zipper and soon had both of their cocks held together in one hand.

Loki had but to look down and see his brother jacking them both off simultaneously, cock against cock, and the visual proved to be too much for him. He was already crying out, already coming, and as Thor drank in the sight of his brother's pleasure, it fed into his own. The hot spill of Loki's semen wet Thor's hand, slicking it up, and after only a few more strokes, he was caught in the throes of an orgasm as well. It blossomed in the deepest part of his stomach before it pulsed through him, until he was left gasping, mind spinning, ears ringing.

It was over too fast yet was eons in the making. What in Hel's name had they done? As Thor milked the final drops from them both, the brothers were able to do little more than stare wordlessly at each other, breathless with shock at how easy it all was.

And then Loki melted into him, pressing both his body and face against Thor's solid weight. They were sticky and exhausted, and neither had any idea of what to say. Thor kissed the top of Loki's head and closed his eyes. Together they grew still to listen to the rain.

To be continued.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um. Yeah. *takes Sharpie, crosses out Slow Burn tag, and underlines Explicit rating three times*
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can follow me [here on tumblr](http://pro-antagonist.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to hear about updates. I worked hard on this one and would love to hear your thoughts!


	11. Chapter 11

_Loki bolted into a sitting position, his pulse pounding so urgently, it was but noise filling his head. Difficult to think past. Panic alone fueled his movements. He stumbled out of bed and nearly tripped as he hurried to the balcony to see what was amiss. Though he scanned the city sidewalk below, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Loki, however, knew better than to trust what mere sight could reveal._

_Yet again, someone was looking for him._

_No . . . they were already here._

_It wasn't the first time he'd felt this. The spells of protection and concealment he had woven around himself alerted him whenever someone was too close, and when they triggered, he wasted no time asking questions. Returning inside, he went to the closet for his coat but was left blinking at the empty wire hanger as it swung to and fro, disturbed by his movements. He thought he remembered being in possession of one but couldn't remember now. His mind was a fog, incapable of even recalling how long he'd been there, rotting away, waiting for the thirst to get him if nothing else._

_Loki was beyond exhausted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. Who in Hel's name would want anything to do with an empty shell of a Jötunn?_

_He had no stores of energy or discipline of mind to devote to a teleportation, and so he cloaked himself with invisibility and took the elevator downstairs instead. Though he had not yet visually identified his pursuer, he could feel his or her power approaching. The person in question was close, and Loki held his breath as he tentatively stepped out into the empty lobby. Better to be cautious until he knew what he was dealing with._

_Not a soul was in sight, save for the passersby outside that could be seen through the glass windows at the front of the building. All the same, Loki did not move, even after the elevator doors shut behind him. Ten seconds passed, and then he was backing up, moving as fast as he could until he hit the far wall and could go no further. The aged, stained marble burned cold through the inadequate fabric of his shirt, tensing his rigid spine even further. It was an absurd notion, but he imagined his skin shifting blue in response, exposing him further._

_A breath later, Thor came through the front door, and Loki had to press the back of his hand to his mouth to keep from crying out._

_His heart betrayed him in that moment. Countless hours devoted to the solitary act of hating his brother were all forgotten. Faced with flesh and bone rather than stale, colorless memories, Loki wanted nothing more than to rush forward and say, "Here. Here I am." And then to be caught up in those inescapable arms and be taken home to rest and recover and be told he had misunderstood. That he was a child of Asgard and true son of Odin. That he had a brother, and he was both beloved and missed._

_Thor had_ come for him _. Searched for him. There was no denying it, for Loki had taken great pains to ensure he was not easily found._

_But it was then, at the summit of that moment of weakness, that Loki noticed Thor had not come alone. A stranger stepped into the unforgiving florescent glare of the apartment lobby, and Loki could practically taste his seiðr. He was powerful, whoever he was, and when Loki laid eyes upon his weapon, he began to refer to this unknown individual as the Hunter._

_And Thor was with him, which implied he was hunting Loki as well. And, of course, why wouldn't he? Thor had once said the Jötnar must learn to fear him, a lesson he was eager to impart to anyone who might be confused about what type of king he intended to be. Perhaps the All-Father only wanted his investment in a lasting peace returned to him, but Loki remembered well the clarity of Thor's rage when last they fought together in Jötunheim. Either way, a son of Odin was not to be trusted._

_Though Loki's lungs burned as he watched the pair of hunters enter the elevator, he dared not breathe. It was difficult to maintain the wards of protection around himself and remain hidden in the company of another practitioner, but he dedicated what little remained of his strength to the task. The moment the doors closed, Loki released his breath and_ ran _._

_But in the back of his mind, beneath the miasma of exhaustion and the tangle of conflicting emotions, all he could think about was how tired he was of running at all—and how badly he ached for his brother to catch him._

* * *

"I am _starving_ ," Loki said when they descended from the rooftop. And then he took Thor's hand into his own and pulled him out onto the streets.

The Barcelona air was filled with drizzle, music, and the delicious smell of food. A gibbous moon illuminated the low-hanging clouds overhead, and people crowded the streets in spite of the threat of rain, chattering and smiling as they skipped over puddles in search of adventure.

Thor had no idea where they were and did not question it. Though the city was more than impressive in its offerings—with its grand cathedrals, maze-like streets, and stare-inducing Gaudi architecture—Thor was instead pleasantly distracted by what had transpired between the brothers not fifteen minutes ago. He wore a knowing smirk, kept his eyes on Loki, and paid heed to very little else.

In time, Loki brought them to an open air market dense with tourists and locals alike. Though some of the food vendors were closing down for the night, many still offered the lingering crowds a variety of indulgences—fire-kissed corn on the cob, cured meats, fresh fruits of every color, and spices that tickled the senses. He marched right up to one of the stands and pointed out some kind of ocean-dwelling creature that had been sautéed and served up with an inky sauce. Loki ordered other tapas as well—olives, jamón ibérico, queso manchego, and fruit.

He was already eating by the time Thor managed to rummage around in his brother's coat pocket and retrieve the money needed to pay the woman who owned the stand. She argued with him over the form of currency, which was apparently not accepted everywhere on Midgard, until Loki gave her a handful of coins.

"Is that actual money," Thor asked under his breath, "or did you conjure it from something worthless?"

Loki didn't respond, which was an answer in and of itself, but Thor was so pleased that his brother was actually _eating_ that he pressed the issue no further. Whether it was from not consuming food all day, the energy drain from the teleportation spells, the excitement of now running from _three_ separate opponents (Asgard, SHIELD, and the tracker), or the near-sex they'd engaged in across multiple continents, Loki's appetite was certainly awake now. His cheeks were bitten with color, and he seemed to vibrate with energy just short of manic.

Thor was ravenous as well and ordered the same thing his brother had. But only after he laid down no less than four bills of his foreign currency did the woman accept his offer. Her pleasure over the transaction alleviated any guilt Thor felt over Loki's theft. She had clearly made a handsome profit.

The brothers ate shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the unfamiliar tastes as they watched the citizens of Midgard dash to escape the now falling rain outside the covered market. Thunder rolled overhead, and though the temperature was comfortable, the air was moist enough that perspiration accumulated on the backs of their necks. After a long stretch of companionable silence, Loki said, "I need to rest before we make another jump."

Rest required a bed. There were other things they could do in a bed.

"I think that a splendid idea," Thor replied, his voice low and textured enough to inspire Loki to meet his eyes. They stared at each other without speaking, both of them clearly thinking the same thing, until Loki was driven by the humidity (or something else) to remove his coat and fold it over one arm.

Thor let his eyes glide down his brother's body in a way he'd never allowed them before. He took in the deceptively proud angle of Loki's chin, the subtle jut of his lower lip, and the tempting fall of his throat down to the V of his shirt. Though he had gained little in the way of weight since Thor had found him, Loki's physical appearance had greatly improved. Vibrancy had returned to his eyes. Thor wondered if it was the unbinding of his brother's magic and the freedom it afforded that had restored him to life—or if it was perhaps something far deeper.

"Do you think us concealed well enough to remain here overnight?" Thor asked.

In his mind, he was already planning to map the entirety of his brother's body with his mouth. Such things would require time. He wanted to put his hands on Loki and feel his quiet strength grow stronger by the second. Thor wanted to see him eat more and feel the swell of his belly afterward, knowing every bite would help the spaces between his ribs fill back in. He wanted to see Loki naked beneath him, fat and flushed with both health and lust.

"I no longer feel the tracker breathing down my neck," Loki said. "He will not find us anytime soon, if at all."

Thor had mixed feelings about this. While he was glad his brother had opportunity for a respite, he wanted the threat of the tracker gone, preferably removed by his own hands. It was difficult to run from confrontation when his very nature told him to stand and fight. But this wasn't about him, and he needed to prove to Loki he was capable of putting him first for once.

When the rain finally slowed and they again stepped out onto the wet streets, Thor put his arm around his brother's shoulders and tugged him close. Loki did not return the gesture, but he didn't push it away either. He hugged his coat to his chest, kept pace with his brother, and tried to pretend he wasn't pleased by the attention. His eyes hinted at a cautious smile that he would not let his lips reveal.

The city around them was a burst of color in Thor's periphery, and he felt he had never been more in love with Midgard than at that precise moment—with Loki there at his side. There was a joyful sensuality to their surroundings that hummed pleasantly in Thor's mind. It made him want to taste and smell and stare. More than once, he touched Loki in a very pointed way. A hand dropping to his hipbone, followed by a rapacious slide across his abdomen. A kiss pressed to the warm, fragrant flesh behind his ear. A flick of tongue. The taste of raindrops and salt.

Loki allowed these advances without commentary and even went so far as to ignore them, acting as if it was a normal, everyday occurrence to have his older brother mouth and fondle him in public. The longer it went on, the more his expression lightened into something that was no longer so unhappy and defeated in appearance. He looked like himself again—bright, attentive, and quietly amused at something he did not let others in on. It brought youthfulness back to his features, and the sight of it made Thor's heart soar.

Whatever this was between them, they had neither spoken of it nor given it a name. But it felt _good_ and such a blessed release from the tension that had been suffocating them for far too long. Thor certainly had no intention of stopping, not unless Loki asked him to. They were on the run together now—from responsibility and common sense, along with Asgard and everything else.

They passed through another market, and Loki was again distracted by the food. He tried several different fruits while Thor watched, approving of every bite that passed his brother's lips. While Loki argued prices with a vendor, having to shout over the sound of a street musician's drums to be heard, Thor noticed another stand a few paces away that boasted a selection of hand-bound journals tied with leather strings. Knowing Loki would find enjoyment in such a thing, Thor paid for one and pocketed the present without a word to his brother.

The rain had started up again, so they paused in the shadows beneath a low, pedestrian bridge and gazed out at the street ahead in search of a place to stay. There was a large hotel in the distance that looked promising, but the rain was heavy enough to dissuade them from making a run for it. It was then that Thor removed the journal from his pocket and held it out.

Loki drew back instinctually.

"It's for you," Thor explained.

Still Loki hesitated but soon reached out to touch the gift and smear the sprinkle of raindrops across the soft red leather. "But what is it? And why?"

Thor shrugged. "A trifle, really. I thought you might like a journal. That's what those pages were back at the apartment, weren't they? You were trying to sort through your thoughts."

Loki looked up—quickly, startled.

"This will keep them all held together," Thor said.

It took Loki a minute—long enough that Thor began to wonder if he'd unwittingly done or said something wrong—but at last, he accepted the gift. He ran the pad of one thumb down the binding, then folded the book up in his hands like it was something precious to him. Something fragile that could be lost or ruined if he failed to treat it with care. A quiet exhalation—and then he stepped into Thor's arms and hugged him tight around the waist.

Thor let out a surprised huff, but once he recovered, he gathered his brother close. It was the last thing he had expected from someone who claimed to hate him and demanded to be left alone. Thor did not entirely grasp why the journal seemed to mean so much, but that hardly mattered. He held Loki back in a crushing return of affection and let him burrow into his chest and hide there. The tip of his nose was cold, but the rest of him was so very warm. Thor could have stood forever in that moment. Nothing hurt there, and everything was easy. His heart was bright with love.

"Loki, did you really come to me on Midgard during my banishment?"

Loki took in a shuddering breath. It was unclear if he was crying or not.

"I did not see you," Thor continued, hugging a little tighter, uncertain if he would ever be allowed to get this close again. But much to his surprise, Loki squeezed him back.

"I know," he whispered in reply.

"If I had," Thor said, "we could have done this long ago, you and I. We could have run away together, and let the rest of them be damned. I would have dropped everything had you been in need of me, but you must _tell me_ when that happens, brother. Throw a rock at my head if I'm not paying attention."

Loki chuckled and rubbed his face against the fabric of Thor's shirt. "Remember you said that. I've a mind to take you literally."

They quieted after that but did not move out of the embrace. It felt too good to abandon just yet.

With his fingers, Thor combed the tangles out of Loki's hair and rubbed his back with the strong push and pull of one hand, letting him know this was okay. Though Thor offered his support without any strings attached, it was Loki that made the first move and turned it into something else. He mouthed a hot kiss at the base of Thor's throat, just above his heart, and then looked up, lips wet. Their noses bumped together.

"May we go?" Loki said. If he had been crying, there was no evidence of it now. His gaze had taken on a singular focus.

Thor's arm tightened around Loki's waist. "There was one last thing I wanted to purchase."

"Which is?"

"Oil," Thor said, unabashed. What use was there to hide it anymore?

Loki's expression remained unchanged as his hand moved between them, fingers spanning the length of his brother's erection through his pants. "We'll make do," he said and stepped out into the rain, looking for the nearest hotel.

* * *

Loki guided them with confidence gained from experience, sweeping through the brightly lit lobby of a grand hotel and heading straight for the unmanned front desk. "Relax," he said. "I've done this before. And no, they can't see us. Do you really think me such a novice?"

"Never that," Thor said. He eyed another couple lounging about in the lobby while Loki typed away on an archaic computer. He inserted a plastic card into a slot, and it popped back out again a moment later.

"That's all we need," Loki said. "Let's go."

"And what is that?" Thor asked, gesturing to the card.

"A room key." Loki grabbed a handful of chocolates from the welcome tray on the desk, and as he unwrapped one, he nodded in the direction of the elevator. "How does the penthouse sound after that unbearably stifling apartment?"

In the elevator, Thor tried to be patient and failed in a matter of seconds. By the time they passed the third floor, he had already closed in and was lapping lazy kisses up the column of Loki's neck. After that came the taste of chocolate melting bittersweet on his tongue.

Their kiss was but a tease, and both of them smiled against the other's lips as Thor toyed with the button of his brother's pants. Popping it free, his hands slipped inside the loosened garment to feel the cool, smooth skin of Loki's bare buttocks. Though his body was narrow and thin, Loki possessed an undeniable power, and a low rumble sounded deep in Thor's chest at the feel of him.

"Brother," he said while he was still in possession of his control. "If you want me to stop these advances, if they are at all unwelcome, all you need do is—"

Loki yanked Thor's shirt up to expose his abdominal muscles. His vision had gone hazy. "What?" he said, clearly not listening as he put his hands on Thor's stomach.

That effectively ended the conversation. They kissed again, still testing the waters, impossibly tentative even now as they touched one another, not for the first time. But for too long, they had lived only as siblings. Even if they spent the next thousand years indulging in this, each kiss would no doubt feel as thrilling and astonishing as the first. That thrill surged upward within Thor now, filling his stomach with a fluttering like wings and his lungs with hurried breaths that did not satisfy.

The sweetness of the chocolate was what he wanted, too good not to share, and so Thor held Loki against him and kissed him deeply—one hand still palming his ass, the other stroking his brother's face the same way Loki had touched the journal Thor had given him.

Their movements were not rushed. There was a decidedness between them. A conversation that needed no words. When the elevator doors opened, Thor imagined a wave of heat escaping into the hallway beyond, searing anyone who had the misfortune of standing there.

But the hallway was abandoned, and Loki led the way to the room, holding his pants up with one hand and popping another chocolate into his mouth with the other. Thor followed behind and pressed in close when they reached the door. Though his own zipper was close to bursting open from the strain, he did not feel the need to hurry, even when Loki struggled to get the key to work. Perhaps it was the drag of Thor's lips on the back of Loki's neck or the rub and pinch of fingers on the buds of his nipples, but he failed several times before he got the door open.

Once inside, Thor spared the room only the briefest of glances. It was opulent indeed, with high, vaulted ceilings, golden fixtures, and plush carpets the same color as his eyes. Entirely suitable for two princes traveling abroad. What a shame its splendor was about to be destroyed by the heat of their lust.

"I want to wash," Loki said, casting aside his coat. Chocolates spilled from the pockets and onto the ground. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside without a care for where it landed. His unzipped pants dipped so low in the front, the shadow of his pubic hair was visible.

Watching him, Thor felt feral, removed from his own body, but somehow he managed not to pin Loki to the wall and take him right then and there. Together they went into the bathroom.

Both of them were already soaked from the rain, and so they turned the shower on as hot as they could stand while they stripped. Their clothes were so wet, they had to peel them off their skin, and the black marble bathroom filled with steam as the layers fell away. At last, they were naked with no barrier between them except the lingering question: _was this actually happening?_

The shower was positioned against the corner of two walls and enclosed with thick glass. When they stepped inside, it was like entering a world comprised solely of heat and mist. It fogged up the windows as well as their minds. Loki put his face directly into the water and let it all run down him, while Thor came to stand at his side, purposefully towering over Loki so that he could feel his size. It was not meant as a threat but rather as a comfort. He was protected and cherished. And, as demonstrated by the possessive kiss Thor practically bit into his shoulder, Loki was also _his_.

Thor poured liquid soap into his palm, and as he worked it into a lather, the smell of vanilla and lavender filled the small space. Loki stepped back from the stream and wiped water from his eyes, then tensed as his brother's hands came to soap up his shoulders. Thor worked deliberately down Loki's back and up the length of his arms, letting him again get used to being touched. Thor soaped up Loki's front then, stopping to tease the already hardened nipples before helping the indolent trail of suds journey down his stomach.

The brothers took turns washing each other's bodies and hair, and it was as if the water cleansed them of more than just the dirt of the day. Discontentment and worry seemed to go down the drain as well. The task of cleaning Thor's body became something of a distraction for Loki, and he took his time exploring the unyielding muscles with all the fascination of an artist being allowed to touch a statue he had long coveted. Their cocks bumped against each other's thighs as they moved about to work.

When Thor put a slippery hand between his brother's legs, Loki placed both palms on the wall in front of him and breathed an affirmation. Then they were both moaning for different reasons as Thor worked a finger inside.

"Try to relax," he said. In spite of Loki's willingness to participate, he was too tense for this.

With his free hand, Thor directed his brother's head to the side so that they could kiss while he set a good rhythm. Still only one finger, which was little more than a whisper compared to what was coming. Surely Loki could feel it—the heft of Thor's erection flattened against the much softer flesh of his ass. He suckled the marks he had already left on Loki's neck and said, "Tell me what you want, brother."

Loki's hand had found his cock, and he tugged on it with rising desperation. His head fell back, and Thor enclosed the exposed throat with his hand. "I want you to keep calling me that," Loki said, the words vibrating against Thor's palm.

Two fingers now, and Loki's thighs had begun to quake. Thor's hand tightened on his brother's neck, insisting he be still. His fingers were not small, but neither was his cock. Without oil to aid them, Loki would need to be calm and relaxed in order to take it. He was currently neither of those things. Thor was only able to manage shallow thrusts, but the drag in and out became easier as Loki began to forget where he was.

Thor murmured his approval when his brother pushed back into his fingers, wanting them deeper, asking to be spread wider. He released Loki's throat, trailed his hand instead down the vulnerable slope of his abdomen, and batted Loki's hand away from his cock.

"Against the wall," Thor ordered and helped his brother move to obey.

Loki's upper back hit the shower wall, but his hips were pushed forward, giving way to the hand Thor still had half-buried in his ass. The soap made a squelching noise that could barely be heard over Loki, who sounded as if he might be able to come from just his brother's fingers alone.

Eager to get him there, Thor dropped to one knee and lapped his tongue into the dimple of Loki's belly button. Loki yelped at the sudden invasion but then melted into it. His head hit the wall with a thump, and he _moaned_. Thor tongued it like a woman's sex, teasing the lovely little nub of knotted flesh. Loki's fingers pulled at Thor's hair as if begging him to stop and keep going at the same time.

Thor rubbed the grains of his beard against his brother's tender lower belly and mouthed at a vein pulsing near his hipbone. Some base instinct made him want to mark Loki with both scent and teeth. Thor buried his nose in the sparse patch of curls at the meeting of Loki's thighs and _inhaled_. The smell of him made Thor growl like a beast, and his fingers left bruises on the pale back of Loki's right thigh.

In time, Thor nosed at Loki's cock and drew back to take hold of it. Though it was not the first time he'd touched it, he had been too rushed before to fully appreciate how perfect it was. Gorgeous and long and flushed rosy pink at the tip that peeked out from behind the foreskin. Thor worked the sheath of skin back and forth, marveling at the softness that enclosed the feel of iron. He gazed down at the head that popped in and out and felt hunger.

When Thor sucked it into his mouth and swirled his tongue over the slit, Loki pressed one hand over his eyes and hissed out the names of several deities. He sagged against the wall, slowly coming unraveled, and Thor loved every blessed second of it. He wanted his brother to lose himself to this, so he fucked Loki harder with thick, greedy fingers, the movement of which forced his cock deeper into Thor's throat.

Loki had always been a quick study, but here, so overcome by the exquisite burn of his brother's mouth, he lagged helplessly behind. He trembled and the hand that gripped Thor's hair was uncoordinated, as though its owner had succumbed to a fever. Thor might be the one on his knees, but he had full control. He dragged Loki into an accelerando until he was all but pleading for mercy. But just as he was about to come, Thor gripped his cock tight at the base to keep it all in.

" _No_." Loki's hips strained forward in search of relief. "Thor, _please_."

Thor added a third finger and thrust their full length into Loki until his legs were no longer able to support his weight. Only then, with Loki practically crying and wilting down on top of him, did Thor release his cock. He had already seen Loki come once—now he wanted to taste it—and so Thor let his brother chase down his orgasm right there in his mouth. When Loki finally came, it was all swallowed down with a purr of contentment. His ass clenched around Thor's fingers tight enough to leave them tingling.

Afterward, Thor stood and had to hold Loki against his chest to keep him upright. He was boneless and spent, eyelashes smudged black against his overheated cheeks, exhausted after too many long days without adequate care. The sudden release of tension had finally done him in.

Thor smiled and shut off the water. It was time.

He was patient while Loki's wobbly legs struggled to remember how to walk but wasted only a hasty moment drying his brother off. A quick swipe of a towel that was soon tossed aside, and then Thor patted the underside of Loki's ass, loving the way it jiggled in response. "Get on the bed. I'll join you soon."

For Loki's sake, Thor gave the steam-filled bathroom a final search, sniffing and testing the contents of small bottles of toiletries left for hotel guests. Though Loki was nicely loosened up, Thor still wanted to use oil with him to increase his pleasure, but nothing he found would do the trick.

He padded barefoot into the bedroom, his cock bobbing heavy and full with each step. Loki had melted onto the bed, skin peppered with water droplets, the marks Thor's fingers had left on his thigh still visible. Thor put one knee on the bed and looked approvingly down at how relaxed his brother was. Loki could have fallen asleep if Thor had any intention of letting him.

He put his hands on Loki's ass, working and massaging the flesh until he was even looser. Loki sighed and his thighs fell apart, revealing the fall of his scrotum onto the mattress. Thor spread the cheeks, moved downward, and licked at the clean skin. He spread around a generous helping of saliva with greedy laps of tongue, concentrating his efforts on the tight, pink pucker that he had so thoroughly tormented with his fingers.

Thor drew back and stroked his erection while he stared down at his work. Saliva dripped down the willing curve of Loki's ass, but Thor worried it still wasn't enough. He tugged at himself harder.

"Just do it," Loki said, the words muffled in the pillow. He sounded intoxicated with the kind of weariness that resulted from only the best kind of finish. "I can handle it."

"Hush. I don't want you to handle it. I want you to love it." Thor kneed his brother's thighs further apart and released a sigh of satisfaction at the sight of him spread out so beautifully on the bed. It was the single most arousing thing he'd ever seen. After adjusting his position, he pressed his cock flat between the crack of Loki's ass, and then held the cheeks together, enclosing himself within. Thor slid along the crevice, his saliva serving as lubricant, and he faltered and had to steady himself when he realized how good it felt. He wasn't even inside Loki yet, and already his ears felt stuffed with cotton.

Loki was not nearly as excited by this turn of events. "Give it to me," he said as the bed began to rock with Thor's motions. "What are you waiting for? _Ahhh_ . . . ." His cock must have rubbed against the blanket beneath him because his mouth fell open, and then he said the most wicked thing. " _Brother_."

And then Thor was coming, coming, oh, he was lost. The sin of _that_ endearment, at _that_ moment, would surely send both their souls to Helheim.

Somehow Thor retained enough of his wits to remember to pull back. The first spurt of semen hit Loki's hole, which was just as Thor had intended, and only then did he attempt to push inside. There was a great deal of pressure, and then came the sound of Loki crying out as the tight ring of muscles began to part and give way. The second spurt of semen filled Loki from the inside, slicking him up, enabling the thick head to rock into place. Thor gripped Loki's hips and finally allowed himself to empty, every bit of concentration dedicated to not splitting Loki open with one decisive slam into the mattress.

Thor circled his hips, able to sink a bit deeper with each thrust, pumping pulse after pulse of come inside. It was the very thing he had imagined for years, every time he'd taken himself in hand or joined with another warm body. The moment he came, this was where his mind had been—filling his brother up, then reveling around in his own spendings until it dribbled out and trickled down Loki's perineum.

Loki was no longer relaxed. He had balled up the blanket in both hands, and there was a great ripping sound as he tore it apart. Thor was only two inches deep—many more to go and softening by the second—and it was all he could do not to chuckle. For all Loki's begging, the reality of Thor's cock was not an easy thing to take. He rubbed the small of Loki's back to soothe him.

Even though Thor's erection was waning, he kept moving in the hopes that Loki would get used to the invasion. Thor was five inches in before his cock finally bent mid-thrust and popped out of place, too soft to continue. Loki whined into the pillow, a mixture of relief and complaint.

Thor guided Loki's fingers to his own ass and made him push them in. "Hold it inside. Don't you dare waste a drop."

"I _hate_ you," Loki said—but then bit down on his lower lip as he added another finger. Only after he'd fucked another whine out of himself did he say, "On your feet, brother."

The hand Loki closed around Thor's cock did not allow him to go far. Loki pushed himself up onto his knees, and when Thor came to stand beside the bed, he was at a perfect height for Loki to lick the underside of his cock from root to tip.

Thor exhaled, marveling over the shock of heat followed so soon by the chill of saliva cooling on his skin. "You don't hate me," he said, caressing his brother's face. "Open your mouth."

And to his eternal surprise, that was precisely what his little brother did.

Loki made a show of it, fully aware that the visual stimulation was just as important as the physical. He let Thor see the coquettish rise and fall of his eyelashes as he sucked. He focused on the head, first licking it all over before stretching his mouth wide for it. Then he hollowed out his cheeks and concentrated on drawing all the blood back.

"That's right," Thor said, knotting Loki's hair up in his hand. "Get it hard."

Loki leaned back and panted as he studied the saliva glistening at the tip of Thor's cock. It was only half-hard, but Loki was still unable to fully take the length and girth of it. "Gods, I'm such a masochist," he said and tried again. He sucked it into his mouth, the sound most satisfying in its obscenity, and moved his head so that Thor could feel the rub of his taste buds.

Loki's tongue was talented indeed, but it was the little sounds of pouting pleasure he made that got Thor hard again. Hearing his brother hum and sigh while sucking him off was wholly unexpected. Loki was still fingering himself, his hand wet with his brother's semen, and Thor suddenly could not wait another second.

He guided Loki back onto the bed and lifted one long leg up onto his shoulder. After prying Loki's hand out of the way, Thor guided his cock into place. The head popped in on the first try, eased by the slip of Thor's seed and Loki's saliva mixed together. Loki stared up at him, an arm thrown over his head, fingers smearing wetness onto the blanket. His well-kissed lips were parted as if to protest the incursion, but all that came out was a shivering, disjointed moan. He was forced beyond the reach or understanding of words.

Thor's mind drifted far above his body. He kissed and bit at Loki's ankle, and the slow sink inside of him was like a doomed ship swallowed up by the tide. Thor filled him with confident, fluid-like movements but took just as much delight in the long drag out. Loki's howling decrescendoed every time Thor pulled fully out of him, followed by a near-shout when he slid back in.

Again and again, Loki was made to relive the initial moment of penetration until his hole was left gaping open between strokes like a mouth begging to be fed. Only then, when Thor had overstimulated his brother beyond reason, did he flip him over onto his stomach. He guided Loki's head down onto the mattress but hauled his hips upward so that he was resting on his knees, ass in the air.

Thor nudged Loki's thighs further apart until he was at just the right height, then mounted him, gripping his hips and sliding home in a single go. He buried himself to the hilt, and the rough patch of curls at his pelvis tickled Loki's buttocks, which was a striking shade of bitten-red from the working of Thor's hands.

Thor began to fuck him open in earnest, equally turned on by the sight and feel of him. Loki's flesh rippled in the wake of every slap of skin against skin. It was a sloppy coupling, unfocused and already so wet. Semen trickled down Loki's inner thighs, and his knees spread just a bit wider each time his brother quickened the pace.

After stuffing a pillow under Loki's abdomen, Thor said, "Grind yourself into it." He seized possession of Loki's wrists. "I want to feel it when you come and won't stop until that happens."

"But I-I already did," Loki said, the words broken with emotion. "I can't—"

"Shhh," Thor said. "Let me see to you. Just one more release. I promise you will feel so good after this."

Loki had no choice but to rut into the pillow, driven by his brother's pounding from behind. It was not easy for him, for he had already had two orgasms since they'd arrived in the city, and each one took longer to chase down than the last.

He quaked, sobbed without tears, and repeatedly yanked his wrists free from Thor's grasp. Loki would then try to work one hand between himself and the pillow to take hold of his cock. He wanted to hurry along his climax, but Thor pinned Loki's wrists again and forced him to slowly work up to it. Eventually, Thor had to cross both of Loki's arms behind his back and keep them captive there.

It began to build then with near-maddening gradualness, affecting both of them, for Thor was desensitized from their earlier play as well. Their orgasms blossomed early on and began to take shape deep in their bellies, but they were never fully given over to it. Instead, it seemed an unending kind of thing, growing more intense and impossible to contain by the second, like a tsunami piling up on top of itself as it reached shallow waters.

The pleasure was borne from a place so deep, there was no name for it. Pure sensation carried them both upward for twenty agonizingly long minutes, every second of which was spent at the mercy of that slow-building orgasm. In that time, the legs of the bed finally gave up and collapsed, and Loki made no less than three verbal threats (and one actual attempt) on Thor's life.

But at long last, with Thor's cock rubbing oh so perfectly against his sweet spot, Loki finally went into a free-fall from that unimaginable height. His body locked up and strained against itself, muscles tensed, mouth stretched soundless and wide. He clenched around Thor's cock, squeezing and milking it until he too was pulled along in the gravity of Loki's climax. Thor pumped his semen deep inside, and Loki was so wet at that point that it was all too easy for Thor to imagine he was spilling into his brother's cunt instead of his ass. The mental image alone was enough to make him shout.

The bright moment eventually burned out into a quietly glowing ember and left them with slack jaws and ringing ears. When they remembered how to move, they cuddled together on their sides with Loki's back fitted to Thor's chest. He had let go of his brother's wrists, but his cock remained held inside as it softened. The corners of Loki's lips curled upward in a dazed, blissed-out smile, and Thor couldn't help but move to taste it.

"Was that all right?" he said against the wet place he'd left on the corner of Loki's mouth.

"Mmm," Loki said, and then tensed when Thor's cock finally slipped out of him. A lazy river of semen followed.

Gods, they were both filthy—covered in their own spendings and the trails left from their tongues. And so soon after washing.

Thor smiled and rubbed his mouth against his brother's sweaty shoulder. They were positioned sideways on the bed and too exhausted to grab one of the many pillows available to them. "I love you, brother," he said, almost as an afterthought as sleep began to pull him under its veil.

It was a long time later, when Thor's breathing had already slowed to the steady pace of slumber. He was on the brink of a dream when he heard Loki's whispered reply. "And I, you."

* * *

To be continued.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was an appropriate chapter to post on Valentine's Day. :) Thank you for making it this far!
> 
> If you're enjoying the story, it would mean the world to me if you could let me know. Fanfic authors thrive on your feedback.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, the beginning of this chapter (in italics) is a flashback of Thor and Loki in the New York apartment. The scene that follows (not in italics) is not a flashback. It takes place in the Barcelona hotel room. The two scenes have similarities/parallels that are put there on purpose, so I just wanted to make sure no one was confused.

 

(New York)

" _Wake up," Loki whispered, his voice so hushed only the consonants were audible._

_He stared down at the bed where his brother slept amid the tangle of Asgardian blankets. Thor's skin was like burnished gold against the pale linen. Warmth radiated upward from where he lay, and the scent of him—woodfire and well-oiled leather—was so very familiar. Like home had found Loki at last._

_Thor's hair was longer than he remembered, as was his beard. He had grown older in the last year. More somber. Yet some things remained unchanged._

" _Wake up," Loki said again, this time through his teeth._

_There was no response, though to be fair, he wasn't really trying to elicit one. Three days had passed since Thor had wrestled him into submission on that decrepit subway train, and though the bruises had begun to heal, the feeling of entrapment had only grown worse. Outside, night was turning to morning, but Loki had already been awake for hours. Pacing, fretting, half-terrified he would be dragged back to Asgard before Midgard's sun showed its full face._

_And Thor? Well, he was snoring._

_Strange that after so many months on his own, Loki felt even lonelier now with his brother here._

Wake up. Please . . . I need you.

_This time, the words only resonated in his mind—not spoken aloud at all. But Thor slept on, his arm thrown across the pillow his little brother had occupied but briefly in the night._

_Loki turned to the balcony doors and after throwing them open, sank to the floor since he lacked the courage to do anything else. Even then, with the icy breeze permeating the room, his brother did not stir. It was unreasonable to be angry with him for that—even Loki had to admit Thor was trying—but the frustration remained. For too long, he had been unable to voice what he needed. Indeed, it seemed he had forgotten how._

_On the ground to his right, a blank sheet of paper stirred in the breeze as if to mock the silence. Loki trapped it with one hand and slowly drew it inward, crumpling it up bit by bit._

* * *

(Barcelona)

"Don't you ever sleep?" Thor asked.

The tips of his fingers journeyed the bare length of his brother's arm, down to where the sheet pooled at his waist. Loki's skin was flushed and warm, and just touching him made Thor's arm tingle with something akin to electricity, like the feel of Mjölnir before battle.

Light from the window brought a faint glow to the room, enough to see the pale wisps of Loki's eyelashes against the darkness. He blinked at steady intervals and gazed at nothing. The hour was late—or possibly early. All sense of time had long been lost.

"When thought permits," Loki said at length.

The words were without inflection or energy. Thor had dozed in and out of sleep, but each time he woke, he had discovered his brother in this state. His hand closed protectively around the crown of Loki's shoulder and found him tense. Perhaps he worried about their many pursuers, or perhaps he was thinking about all the things he and Thor had done only a few hours ago. He certainly wouldn't be the only one.

"Rest," Thor said. "I will keep watch."

And with that, he made himself rise from the bed, for he knew he needed to be alert. Had the tracker given up the hunt? Had SHIELD or the All-Father? And if it was true the tracker had stolen the Tesseract, was there some fourth entity out there Thor was yet unaware of? _Someone_ had purchased the tracker's contract right out from beneath the All-Father.

Loki rolled onto his back, the irises of his eyes eclipsed by pupil, and he watched in silence while Thor dressed. The heat of that stare brought about a struggle to get his zipper up.

Their eyes met, and all at once, it was like they'd never touched. Never kissed. Never dared. Thor's pulse thrummed once, hard, in his throat as desire and tension clashed. How was it possible to feel this unsatisfied and curious after so thoroughly attending to each other's pleasure?

"Thor," Loki said. Hesitant, like an afterthought.

Thor's gaze fell to the wide set of his brother's mouth—and then he had to look away before his desire for it drew him back in. He stooped to retrieve his shirt from the floor, and when he straightened, he found Loki sitting up. His brows had pulled together in the middle, one angled slightly higher than the other.

"I mean it," Thor said. "I want you to sleep while you can. We know not what tomorrow brings."

"Thor," Loki said again, more insistent this time. His hands worked at the sheet.

Thor paused and waited for the rest, but an explanation failed to come. "What is it? Do you sense the tracker?"

Loki visibly struggled with his response, opening and closing his lips several times. "No. I just . . . I mean, I'm not . . . ." He exhaled and closed his eyes. "It's nothing. Never mind."

Thor dropped the shirt and returned to the bed. He sat down, facing his brother, and waited. "It's something."

Loki wouldn't look at him and instead, toyed with a loose thread on the sheet. It took a full minute of patient silence, but the words did eventually come. "You told me to throw a rock at you if I . . . ." He trailed off and pulled the thread until it snapped. "Well, I didn't have one handy, so I tried your name instead."

The explanation did not make immediate sense until Thor recalled the conversation they'd had yesterday. He had told Loki if he was ever in need, and Thor wasn't paying attention, to throw a rock at his head.

Loki, in his ever-evasive way, was trying to tell his brother he needed him.

"I just . . . I thought you meant to leave," he all but whispered, "and I didn't want you to."

Tilting his head to one side, Thor smiled softly. "Look at me."

Loki did no such thing, but that was all right as long as he was listening.

"I'm not going anywhere," Thor said. "Not unless you ask me to, and even then, you wouldn't be easily rid of me. Now tell me what it is that troubles you and keeps you from finding rest."

Loki's posture sagged. Even in the poor light, it was apparent that he was absolutely exhausted, weighed down by the sheer gravity of whatever filled his mind.

Thor's fingers found his brother's hair and combed through the length. He was starting to understand that this was the time of night when Loki's thoughts became dangerous. How many mornings had he risen only to find Loki already awake, looking like he'd spent hours contemplating something no good? But this time was different. At long last, he had given Thor the chance to sit with him and listen. If only he would talk.

"Do you . . . regret what we did?" Thor said.

"You mean that actually happened?" Loki mused, his voice strangely vacant, as if his mind was miles from his body. He focused on Thor's face, and his expression softened into a kind of smile that did not involve his lips. "That isn't it."

There was that feeling again. The nervous pang. The thrill—hot and cold all over—that washed over him when Loki got up on his knees and came to straddle him on the mattress. Thor's hands enclosed his brother's waist, and their mouths came together in the dark. Lips, soft and yielding. The kiss lasted only a moment, but they lingered there, foreheads touching, long after.

Loki's fingers came to caress the grains of Thor's beard. The gesture was so intimate that it was hard to comprehend this was the same person who had fought against him so fiercely up until now. He could feel such tension in the way Loki held himself.

"This," he said. "Here. With you. It makes me feel as though I'm not flying apart. Centered, if you will. At least for the present."

How rare it was to hear Loki speak in such a way. How different he was in the dark.

"And when I'm not with you?" Thor asked.

This question was not as well-received as the first. Loki rubbed his forehead against his brother's, none too gently. A strange kind of nuzzle, not painful, but full of underlying tension. Thor said nothing, for he felt one wrong word would cause Loki to shut down on him again.

When the moment finally passed, Loki said, very calmly, "I think perhaps it is not good for me to be alone. My thoughts are unkind."

Thor let out the breath he was holding. That was an understatement. Gently, he guided Loki back onto the mattress, hoping to also pull him out of whatever dark place his mind had taken him. They arranged themselves on their sides, legs intertwined, with Loki's head resting on Thor's outstretched arm.

A strip of light from the window fell across Loki's eyes, illuminating them and nothing else. His voice was a quiet rumble in the dark. "I want to tell you things. I do. But I can't seem to get anything out. I hardly know where to start."

Thor's fingers found Loki's lips and felt the movement of his words. "Try."

A long pause. His throat worked as he struggled.

And then, "What do you want to know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Precisely what I said. A rare moment for me, I realize." Loki's sad eyes sparkled in the light, but the amusement lasted only a second. "Since finding me on Midgard, you have asked a number of questions that have gone unanswered. And so I will ask you again, brother—what do you want to know? Though I will lay down a single rule before we begin. If I detect even a hint of pity from you, this conversation is over."

Thor's mouth had set into a suspicious line. There was a great deal of disparity in those coldly-spoken words and the warmth of his lips against Thor's fingertips. Was Loki truly offering to be fully open and honest with him for the first time since . . . who knew when? Thor knew bits and pieces of what went on in his brother's mind, but the larger picture remained unseen.

One question had always stood out to him above all others, and it was the one Loki had evaded the most. "What did father say to you that made you leave Asgard behind?"

It was too bold of an inquiry to lead with, and Thor regretted it almost as soon as he spoke the words. Though he half expected Loki to slap his hand away and push Thor aside, his response was eerily indifferent.

"You assume the decision was inspired by the All-Father's words alone. Asgard was not difficult to leave behind. Nor were you."

The words hurt, just as they were meant to, but Thor remained silent.

Loki watched him, tensed and ready, as if waiting for something to pounce on. "I am being honest, brother. Are you certain you can stomach it?"

"Go on."

"What I mean is—if you are asking this question in an attempt to understand why I left, then you should consider more than the All-Father's words. You need to put them into the context of countless years of pent up frustration. Centuries of feeling ignored, redundant, _lesser_. And then add to that what immediately preceded my conversation with the All-Father. Tell me, brother. Do you have any idea what happened to me on Jötunheim?"

Thor's frown deepened. Loki had fought at his side on Jötunheim, even though he had tried to talk sense into Thor first. How different would things have turned out had he listened? He had not spoken to Loki after Odin arrived to deliver them home, and Thor's banishment had quickly followed their return to the Bifröst Observatory. What could have happened in that short time period that he did not see?

"One of them grabbed my forearm," Loki explained. "Its touch burned away my armor and then took aim at my skin. But it didn't hurt me. I started to change into one of them, you see, and I thought . . . " Here, he broke off as emotion began to crowd out his feeble attempt at indifference. "No, I _hoped_ it was some kind of curse. But I knew that wasn't it. I have known for years _what I am_. I just didn't have the proper word to describe it yet."

Thor had propped himself up on his elbow. The tale was not what he had expected to hear, and the knowledge that he had been _right there_ when Loki had gone through something so life-shattering did not sit well with him at all. "Why did you not say something?"

"When could I? You were busy slaughtering my kin in droves. For all I knew, you would turn on me next."

Thor felt like he had been slapped. "That is not . . . ."

And then he stopped talking—because what if Loki was right?

What if Thor _had_ been so caught up in the heat of battle and his mindless hatred of the Jötnar that he lashed out at what he thought was another monster, only to realize too late it was something beloved instead? He already had numerous regrets about that ill-fated journey to Jötunheim, but this new realization topped them all. "Gods, Loki. I am _so sorry_."

Loki's head was still cradled in the bend of his brother's arm, and he looked either ready to run or fight. But gradually, as it sank in that Thor had not defended his actions but had instead thought about them and apologized, the anger in Loki's eyes broke into pieces and fell away. Beneath it all was a haunted look of fear.

"There is more." A tear streaked down his face. "Swear you won't hate me for it."

"How can you say that, after everything we've been through? Why would I ever _hate you_?"

"Because I betrayed you. I was the one who showed the Jötnar the way into Asgard before your coronation."

Silence.

It was only when Thor's arm relaxed that he realized he'd been holding it tense beneath his brother's head. His limbs felt suddenly hollow.

"I-I only did it as a joke," Loki said. "Surely you remember how often we argued in the weeks before. I was angry and sought to ruin everything, yes, but I did not mean for things to get so out of hand. And when it all but led to a declaration of war—well, you tell me. How do you think my actions would have been perceived had I been found out, knowing I was Jötunn as well?"

Every word was like one of Loki's hidden knives slowly twisting into Thor's side.

They had stood together as brothers before his coronation and exchanged words of affection he had clung to with hope for the last year. Had all of that been a lie? Had Loki really smiled at him while preparing to drive this knife into his gut?

There was a part of Thor that wanted to push his brother off of him, get out of bed, and walk out of the door.

"Don't hate me," Loki begged. "Please. I couldn't bear it if you did. I know it's not an excuse, but you do not understand. No one was listening to me. No one _ever listens_. Thor, when the time came for you to be crowned . . . something here . . . ." He touched his temple, fingers shaking almost as much as his voice. "It just _snapped_."

People did not speak that way in Asgard—like they had been touched by madness. Loki was right. Thor didn't understand at all. "You wanted the crown that badly?"

" _No_. I wanted to be your equal. To be heard. To have a voice, but that isn't possible with your cheering masses drowning me out. I knew it was wrong when I did it, so you don't have to look at me that way. _I know_ , and I am sorry for it. But not even that could stop me. I was too far gone, and no one had even noticed. Everything inside of me was falling apart, and we _hadn't even gone to Jötunheim yet, Thor_. Do you understand? My mind was already split down the middle. All your father did was finish the job and drive the crack through to the other side."

Thor was breathing through his nose, trying to maintain his calm, but it wasn't easy. "Tell me what he said."

"H-he told me the story of how he found me. During the war. Confirmed what I already knew, really. That I was no son of Odin."

Thor had heard this tale before, straight from his father's mouth and quickly softened by Frigga's. Odin had a way of being blunt, factual. If Loki was truly as distraught as he claimed—already so convinced he wasn't valued that he was desperate enough to play games with treason—then that conversation must have been a disaster.

Loki was staring into nothing again, as if he could see some awful event playing out before his eyes. "When he found me, I had gone to the Vault, and I had the Casket of Ancient Winters in my hands. I was only curious to see if my form would change again . . . and it did." An awful shiver went through him. "Who knows what he was thinking when he saw me like that? Perhaps that I meant to steal it for my real father. Everything I did only cast me more into suspicion of treason. I don't know how to explain to you the revulsion I felt in that moment. I asked him if I was cursed." His mouth stretched into a pained smile. "Isn't that funny? To hope for such a thing?"

It wasn't funny at all. Thor felt sick.

"And then I asked him why he took me. _Screamed_ at him, really—because we both know he does nothing without a motive."

"You were a child in need of a father," Thor said. "Is that not reason enough?"

"Do you know how many _children_ died in the war? Surely you are not that naïve. I am the son of Odin's greatest, most hated enemy and was taken to make use of as a political tool. I suppose I should thank you for your war-mongering, brother. Were it not for you storming into Jötunheim, those plans might still be in motion."

Thor was shaking his head, even as his heart unwillingly accepted that the words might have a glimmer of truth in them.

"You deny it still," Loki said, "but I tell you, those words literally came from his mouth. He said his _plans_ for me didn't matter anymore. I left Asgard, Thor, because I thought he was lying. And if he had found out about my treasonous activity, what do you think would have happened to me then?"

The puzzle pieces had started to fall into place. "And when the tracker and I found you on Midgard," Thor concluded, "you thought he had sent us to hunt you down and bring you back."

"I assumed _you_ were the one hunting," Loki corrected. "You and I are natural enemies, after all. Do you not yet see? The All-Father laid the foundation of my life very precisely. Those I trusted most were liars, and those whom I might turn to would despise me if I shared with them the truth. Perhaps even kill me for it."

"But you know now that is untrue. I cannot speak for the All-Father. That is for him to do himself. But please tell me that after all this, you know I would never turn my back on you."

Loki's chin angled upward in challenge. "Even if I had been the one who stole the Tesseract and brought about the deaths of all those people?" Thor drew in a breath to respond, but Loki cut him off. "No. Stop. Shut your mouth and stop spewing mindless platitudes before you take the time to actually _think_ about it. Because I swear, it was almost the truth."

Reluctantly, Thor did as his brother asked and allowed the possibility to unfold in his mind. Imagining Loki as his enemy—as someone Thor would be honor-bound to stop—was not a pleasant experience.

" _There_ ," Loki said with a pitiable laugh. "Your first true glimpse of the monster. Tell me, brother, do you want to bed me now? Why are you even still here?"

"Why do you keep trying to make me leave?" Thor asked. "It's not going to work."

Which was perhaps the opposite of what Loki expected him to say because it brought about a new rush of tears. He swiped at them, but they came too quickly for him to keep up.

"You know," he said, "I really thought that after yesterday, you _would_ turn your back on me. When we fell and I confessed to you all the bloodshed I had planned, I thought surely that was it. The monster, revealed at last, and you would either strike me down or walk away forever. But you didn't, and I don't understand why. I've tried my hardest to blame everything on you, but it isn't you at all, Thor. You are better than me. Greater. The problem lies here." He touched the place over his heart. "In me. And there is no fixing it. The monster and I are one, and this darkness that hardens my heart is naught but my nature."

The words were awful in and of themselves, but what was a thousand times worse was the way Loki said them. Quiet, reflective, like a child repeating a lesson he had been taught many times before yet had only just comprehended the meaning. It was probably the most honest thing Loki had ever said to him.

How ironic that for days, Thor had been bottling his anger, thinking the time was not yet right to lay a share the blame for Loki's condition at his own feet. But it would seem he had beaten Thor to it—and in a way he had never intended.

"You are no monster," Thor said. "You have made mistakes, yes. Grave ones. But brother, so have I. Those were _choices_ I made in stupidity—and you, in anger. They are not evidence of a soul blackened from birth. Do you understand the difference?"

Loki's face had crumpled with emotion. He shook his head miserably.

" _Norns_ , Loki." Unable to stand it any longer, Thor sat up on his knees and took his brother with him. He hugged him so tightly, it was difficult to breathe. "There is a _universe of difference_."

* * *

The conversation did not end there, but neither did it cover new ground.

Loki kept going in circles. Saying the same things. It was like he was stuck in a moment in time. Still standing there in Jötunheim, staring down at the ugly truth written all over his skin. Thor had no choice but to stand there with him until he could coax him back to the present moment.

He told Loki as lovingly as he could, with both words and physical affection, that he was _dead wrong_. That he was forgiven and heard. That he mattered and had a choice in his fate. And all the while, Thor wished that they had been able to have this conversation a year ago when it all happened. No, even before that. They should have never stopped talking. Somewhere along the way, they had forgotten how.

It took a long time, but eventually, Thor's words and actions slowed the rate of Loki's mental descent enough to bring him to a halt. It wasn't enough to haul him back upward again, but Loki wasn't falling anymore. Still dangling over a precipice, to be sure, but Thor had a firm grasp on him now and wouldn't let go.

The quiet of the morning took over.

They lay together in a mess of blankets and limbs, all wrung out, and watched with red-rimmed eyes as sunlight flooded the room. Thor's lips tasted of salt from the tear-stained face he had kissed so many times. He thought to let Loki taste it as well, but when he went in to kiss his mouth, he found Loki's eyelids drifting shut.

He was all curled up, tight and secure against his brother. Brow smooth, mouth slack. Love swelled in Thor's chest, as did hope.

He let him sleep.

* * *

The true extent of Loki's exhaustion soon became apparent. He slept like the dead and barely stirred for the entirety of the day. It wasn't until night began to descend again that Thor started to worry and wanted to see him eat something.

He woke Loki up with a series of wandering kisses—the first placed on the still-tender shoulder that had once borne the tracker's mark, and the second seared into his neck. Thor sighed happily when he felt his brother's pulse quicken against his lips. Awake at last.

He hadn't meant to linger. There were important things to attend to. But Loki's scent dulled those thoughts until they were nothing. By the time Thor made it to his brother's mouth, Loki's hands had slid into his hair, and everything else was lost.

They kissed—sweetly, unhurried—until at last, Loki's eyelashes fluttered open to look at him. He smiled. "Hello," he whispered.

"Hello," Thor replied and kissed the tip of his nose.

They made love again there, with Thor held tight between his brother's thighs. Covers thrown on the floor. Skin exposed to the air. The room smelled like rainfall.

His hips worked in gentle thrusts, and Loki laughed each time Thor struggled to keep his knees from sliding on the sheets. His lips ached from all the kissing, or perhaps it was from the smiling. Gods, he was happy.

By the time they finished, the room was dark and overly warm. A trickle of water could be heard at the windows, evidence of a recent storm that had gone unnoticed.

Loki licked his lips and swallowed like his throat was parched. When he turned to squint at the rain-speckled window, Thor's thumb came to stroke the hollow beneath his cheekbone. "What time is it? You should have woken me earlier."

"Late," Thor replied—and felt a pang of sadness when he did. It was a reminder that things were not yet right, nor were they safe. Though if he had anything to do with it, they soon would be. "I want you to get dressed and eat something. We need to keep moving."

Thor mustered up the determination to finally get out of bed, but he could not help but look back to admire his handiwork. He rubbed at his beard, grinning like an inexperienced schoolboy. Loki quirked an eyebrow and let him look.

They washed together in the bathroom and managed not to become too distracted while they dressed. Afterward, Loki found the trays of food Thor had ordered from the kitchens downstairs and ate without complaint or argument. Indeed, it was a day for miracles.

"Where shall we venture next?" Loki asked while he watched his brother gather their few belongings together. The hotel room was absolutely destroyed.

And even something as trivial as that made Thor's smile widen, because his little brother was looking up at him like he used to when they were younger. With clear eyes. Trusting, innocent. Like Thor was his hero.

He draped Loki's coat across the back of his chair so that he wouldn't forget it—and his smile dimmed a degree when he noticed that Frigga's letter had fallen out of the pocket and onto the floor. "You know this realm better than I," he said as he bent to retrieve it. "Why don't you choose?"

Loki blew steam off the surface of his cup of peppermint tea. "There are many places we could go. Many I have wanted to show you. This realm is filthy and uncouth, but it has its charms, to be sure."

"Careful, brother, or I might start to think you like it here."

Thor set the journal he'd gifted to Loki onto the table beside his plate—and placed Frigga's letter on top of it. It was a wordless invitation. A nudge. A reminder that Loki wouldn't be sitting there had it not been for her kindness.

Loki stared at the letter, then set the cup down without tasting his tea.

"I, um, summoned Mjölnir earlier." Thor backed up toward the room's balcony. "She should be nearing the city soon. Let me know when you're ready."

Thor went outside to await the arrival of his weapon, placed both hands on the white concrete wall of the balcony, and looked out at the beauty of the Midgardian city. It was still drizzling, and the evening air sang with Mjölnir's approach. He could still feel the ghost of his brother's fingers in his hair as he turned back to glance into the room, where he spotted Loki tearing the envelope open, his spine straight as a spear.

He read the letter succinctly, with no visible reaction, and sooner than Thor expected, tucked it back into the envelope and dropped it onto the table.

Thor waited for the worst. It had been a risk giving Loki that letter when he was still so raw and beaten down, but knowing Frigga, she had written the words he most desperately needed to hear. She would tell him everything Thor meant in his heart but did not have the eloquence to say himself. But that didn't mean Loki would receive it.

Thor returned his gaze to the city. Soon after, he heard the bathroom door slam shut.

There was a reason he had gone out onto the balcony, and it didn't have anything to do with Mjölnir. It was unwise to assume Loki wanted comfort until he had come to that realization himself. If nothing else, Thor had learned _that_ particular lesson well since arriving on Midgard. Loki knew now he could talk to Thor, but that didn't mean he did not also desire privacy from time to time.

Thor was still squinting at the horizon, searching for any sign of his weapon, when Loki finally emerged from the bathroom with his hair wet and slicked back. He looked thin but handsome. Troubled but calm. He retrieved his journal from the table and tucked Frigga's letter between the pages. After slipping the book into the inner pocket of his coat, he folded the garment over his arm and strolled out onto the balcony.

It had been a long time since Thor had seen that graceful saunter. Who did Loki think he was fooling?

Thor straightened and pushed away from the balcony wall. "What did the letter say?"

"Precisely what I thought it might," Loki said, his tone clipped. "Are you ready yet?"

"Mjölnir comes. Why the sudden rush?"

"You know I can't teleport us with your weapon."

Thor lifted both eyebrows, a bit dazed by the sudden change in his brother's mood. "So then we make use of our legs. There are other ways to travel, brother."

"Infinitely slower ways, I grant you. But smarter ways? Stealthier ones?"

"Loki."

Loki pressed his lips into a line. His expression was indecipherable.

"You have every right to be angry with her," Thor said. "I'm not trying to take that away from you."

Mjölnir streaked around a nearby building and sped their way, a trail of clouds and raindrops in her wake. Loki's eyes slid from Thor's face to fixate on the approaching hammer. His brow furrowed, as if in confusion.

"If you need to talk about it, I am here to listen," Thor continued. "And if you don't, that is fine as well. That is all I wanted you to know." Turning to look in the same direction as Loki, he couldn't help but smile when he caught sight of his weapon. How good it was to have her back where she belonged.

"Thor," he heard his brother say, somewhere behind him. "Something doesn't feel right. I think . . . I think he's found us."

No longer smiling, Thor extended a hand to catch his weapon. "Who has?"

Mjölnir slapped into his palm. Pain followed.

There was perhaps a loud noise that accompanied the attack—a bang, a detonation—but Thor's hearing had dimmed to nothing but a high pitched ring. The taste of sulfur rose in his throat, and as his vision began to slide out of focus, a cloud of black smoke exploded from the place where he held his weapon.

Then the cloud sharpened its claws and tore into him.

It ripped up his arm, tearing his clothing, scratching his face. It drove the breath from his lungs and the strength from his body. Blood peppered and smeared into a haze on the wet concrete at his feet, and his right knee hit the ground, followed by the left. Unable to breathe. To see to think to feel, what was happening why was _everything shrinking and going dark a n d_

Through the din, Thor felt a sharp jolt at his right arm. He blinked. Looked at his brother.

Loki was screaming something in his face, but Thor couldn't hear him. There was only the ringing in his ears.

" _Drop it!_ " Loki mouthed silently.

Were it not for him practically shaking Mjölnir out of his grip, Thor might not have understood. In the face of an attack, the last thing he wanted to do was let go of his weapon.

Only Mjölnir, it would seem, had been tampered with. Someone had cursed it. Tagged it.

Tracked it.

Mjölnir hit the concrete with a mighty thud and so did Thor, collapsing into a writhing heap, face down in a puddle stained with his blood. He tried and failed to draw in breath to warn Loki of what he feared was coming next.

But it was too late for warnings. The tracker had already appeared, manifesting from thin air just behind Loki, the tails of his coat spreading out in the wind like an unfurling of wings. His rifle was poised, ready to fire.

To be continued.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening bit is a flashback to Chapter 6 when Thor finds runaway!Loki drunk off his ass in the club. There is also brief mention of their Chapter 4 snuggle session, which had more of an impact on Loki than he wants to admit. Just wanted to refresh your memory because it's been a while since I posted those chapters. Hope you enjoy seeing some prior scenes from Loki's point of view.
> 
> And apologies for the questionable editing in this one. I will not be shocked if you spot typos. It's been one of those weeks.

(New York)

_Loki was floating on high, positioned above the people like the king he would never be. The relentless beat of the music was his heartbeat. The flash of the lights was the memory of lightning. He tilted his head back, stretched his arms wide, and dared it to find him._

_The club was like so many others he had frequented during his journeys through Midgard. Off-putting, mindless_ noise _. Genderless people pressing in on each other and kissing in back alleys. Grimy bathrooms with broken locks. Frigid blasts of manufactured air unable to combat the heat from so many bodies. Utter chaos._

_It was the last place Thor would think to look for him, yet Loki found a certain peace there. It was quiet amid the bedlam. Never before had he given himself over to madness in the company of others. At times, he found he rather liked it._

_He chuckled and dropped his arms, so dizzy with intoxication he could have laid himself down upon the ground and let the whole realm spin around him. The mortal man who was not Loki's brother murmured something obscene into his ear. An invitation. A promise of things he could not possibly have the stamina to deliver. Loki laughed again at the absurdity._

_The mortal was reasonably pleasing in height, and the hair was almost the right shade. Best of all, there was a demanding, entitled aspect to his personality that made the fantasy seem truer to life. However, his shoulders were not nearly broad enough to trick Loki into thinking he was being propositioned by someone else. Someone greater. Someone whom, in spite of the frankly astonishing amounts of alcohol he had consumed, Loki could not seem to banish from his mind._

_He leaned on the mezzanine's precarious metal railing, closed his eyes, and thought about the feel of his brother's hand on his stomach. Fingers splayed out, skin upon skin, the heat burning right through to his core. Lips pressed to his cheek near his mouth, warming them with words of comfort and something that might have been a kiss._

_He had left his brother behind yet felt like he had not taken a single step. Thor was in Loki's bones now. In his head, still whispering those unthinkable words of love and loyalty to a monster._

_As the mortal pushed yet another drink into his hand, Loki gazed down at the amber liquid and saw a future written there he no longer had the willpower to pursue. But the darkness, it would seem, had no qualms about pulling him in anyway._

Find me, you blazing idiot, _Loki thought to himself_. Before I truly am lost to this.

* * *

(Barcelona)

Thor knew in his head that his brother was a competent fighter. More than competent. Asgard's youngest prince was talented and innovative in a way not always understood by traditionalists. Thor had witnessed his coming-of-age trials and fought at his side in countless battles, yet his heart sometimes had trouble acknowledging that Loki was not a helpless little boy who needed his older brother's protection in all things.

And so it dazed him when Loki's instincts were sharp enough to reach behind him at what he shouldn't be able to see and grab hold of the tracker's rifle almost immediately after it appeared. His fingers closed over the glowing runes burned into the barrel, and he forced it upward just as it fired.

The blast of concentrated, highly-energized seiðr hit nothing but sky, but the resulting shockwave was significant enough to send a great crack through the outer wall of the hotel building. The concrete balcony jolted violently, and soon it became evident that the blast had dealt a fatal blow to the structure. The balcony was going to crumble and fall to the street below, and Thor could only hope the entire side of the building was not about to follow it down. He would not be able to stop it.

All around them, the city lights of Barcelona flickered and failed.

Loki still had a grip on the rifle, and with a roar of fury, closed his other hand over the barrel and slammed the butt of the gun into the tracker's face.

The tracker fell onto his back but immediately rolled to the left, vanishing as he cloaked himself with invisibility.

Loki gazed down at the rifle in his hands but was soon forced to drop it. Smoke had started to rise from the places where he gripped it, evidence of some kind of deterrence spell meant to keep others from using it. His hands were bloodied and red. They looked like they'd been held under scalding hot water and then dragged through broken glass.

He lifted them, palms flat against open air, and whispered something that made the atmosphere shiver. Soon after, a barrier of protection formed around them. Once that was in place, he dug the heel of his boot into the barrel of the rifle, likely hoping to warp the metal and render the weapon useless.

The force of his movements caused the balcony to shudder again, and this time, it really was going to fall.

Thor witnessed all of this with barely any senses to aid him. He couldn't move. He could barely see, and his ears were still filled with nothing but a high pitched ring. But most worrisome of all was the fact that he _couldn't breathe_.

His throat had closed up, and his lungs felt like a solid mass with no pockets to expand and draw in air. If he did not solve that particular dilemma soon, it would not matter that the tracker had missed his target with the gun. Thor would die anyway.

It wasn't until crimson sparks came issuing out of the end of the rifle that Loki was satisfied with his destruction of it. Just as the balcony's collapse was imminent, he turned and grabbed hold of Thor's arm. He then teleported them elsewhere without a second to spare. Mjölnir was left behind, where she no doubt fell down to the street along with the rest of the concrete rubble from the balcony.

Thor registered the burst of colors from the teleportation, but his vision truly began to fail after that. He was on his back yet couldn't feel the ground beneath him. Wherever they were was dark and shapeless.

Loki's face appeared, and his mouth moved without sound. He took Thor's right hand into his own and gaped, wide-eyed and horrified, at the angry black marks that now decorated it.

They might be safe for the moment from the tracker himself, but that didn't mean the attack was over.

The marks started from the hand Thor had used to catch Mjölnir and wound up the length of his arm like a maze of vines seeking to strangle and choke. It very much resembled the marks that Loki had once borne on his own body, except that Thor now also had a series of runes emblazoned on his inner forearm. Five of them in total, though one was barely formed, as though it did not have the chance to fully develop and take hold before he had dropped Mjölnir.

Thor did not need to hear his brother in order to understand the series of curses he spat out at the sight of those runes. His eyelids began to droop. He could last a few minutes without oxygen at most, but no more than that. The last thing he saw was Loki bowing his head and pulling Thor's forearm tight against his body.

He could feel Loki's chest reverberating as he spoke, and though Thor could not understand the words, his hand and forearm warmed in response to them.

His arm was already throbbing with pain, but this was far worse. In the span of seconds, it intensified a hundredfold, feeling very much like his skin was being flayed from his body and replaced with liquid fire. And at the center of it all was an unnerving tugging sensation, as though Loki had hooked a finger into one of the tracker's runes and was slowly prying it from the skin.

Thor would have screamed had he been capable of it.

It seemed to stretch into eternity. And then all at once, there was a feeling like a glass bulb shattering under pressure, and he could breathe again.

He drew in great gasps of oxygen, so greedy for it, he could think of nothing else. Not even the pain in his arm could compete with that need. His lungs burned without end, but eventually, the blackness began to retreat from the edges of his vision.

Shaking, weakened, covered in sweat, Thor looked at his brother.

Loki was also unwell. He was panting and gray in the face from whatever effort he'd had to put into breaking the attack on his brother's lungs. He still held Thor's arm against his chest, where his pulse beat wildly.

The tracker's vine-like marks remained in place in spite of whatever Loki had done, and Thor knew without looking that the runes were still on his forearm as well. He could feel them there like some kind of living entities. Loki had only managed to break one of them, and his seiðr was badly drained from it. Attempting any more than that would be most unwise.

Once he caught his breath, Loki started to speak again.

Thor shook his head and touched his ear with his uninjured left hand. _I can't hear you_ , he tried to say but couldn't make his mouth form the words.

All the same, Loki seemed to understand. He pulled Thor's arm away from his chest and looked down at the runes with renewed frustration.

Then he started cursing again.

* * *

Loki did his best to first secure their hiding place with a barrage of spells he had little energy for. Afterward, when he was satisfied that the tracker could not easily follow them nor penetrate through the layers of wards, he set about trying to make his brother comfortable.

It took a while to tend to Thor's wounds. Though the smoky, black claws of the tracker's attack had targeted every bit of bare skin they could find, the resulting cuts were not deep. Still, though they might be shallow, they were also painful and great in number—like little papercuts sprinkled with acid.

Loki was working with injured hands that bore similar wounds, but he refused to let his brother inspect them. Thankfully, though both of their injuries were an annoyance, they were not grave. The tracker had meant to kill them with that blast from the rifle. The rest was merely distraction.

Thor wondered what happened to the hotel and to the residents inside. Did the building fall after they left? The very thought made him feel ill.

He had no idea where they were, nor did he have any means of inquiring or hearing the reply. It was a small, cold residence of some kind—most likely still on Midgard, for Loki did not possess the ability to teleport them to another realm without a catalyst to aid him. The walls were crafted of wood, and the furnishings were modern and minimalistic by Midgardian standards. The chill in the air was significant enough to make Thor think it was snowing outside. Their breath froze into clouds even after Loki got a fire going in the stone hearth.

Thor drifted in and out of consciousness, lying on a rug in front of the fireplace and covered in blankets that his brother had tucked into place so carefully with his bandaged hands. There was a bed at the end of the room, but it was too far away and much too small to make getting up seem worthwhile.

His dreams were vivid, frightening things that were only soothed when Loki came to sit with him. He held Thor's head in his lap and stroked his hair, all the while staring at the fire, trying to decide what to do next.

Little by little, the grayness faded from Loki's complexion as his stores of seiðr were replenished. Only then did he attempt to readdress the problem of the runes that decorated his brother's arm. One of them had vanished, but the others remained. Four left now.

Before he began, he squeezed Thor's shoulder and gave him a grim look of warning. _Brace yourself_ , it said.

The temperature outside had dropped sharply in the hours before dawn, but as Loki began to work on the deconstruction of another rune, Thor's world was suddenly lit on fire. He screamed in his mind, for his tongue would not allow for anything else.

On and on it went, even after the day had dawned outside, and the room was awash with sunlight. Then at last came the feeling of something breaking, and Loki released him with a broken cry of exhaustion. A second rune destroyed—and with no small amount of effort. It had taken _hours_.

Thor felt relief for only a second because Loki had collapsed onto his chest, unconscious and bleeding from the nose. Alarmed, Thor pushed his own pain aside and sat up for the first time since their arrival. He had very little strength and still could not speak, but Loki was hurt. That was all that mattered.

Thor gathered his brother up and hugged him to his chest. He shook Loki—tried and failed to say his name—until at last, his ink black lashes trembled and parted. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and the crimson trickling from his nose was a shock of color against the pallor of his face.

"Did it work?" Loki asked, the words barely louder than a sigh. "Can you hear me?"

Thor nodded. The ringing in his ears was still there, but it was fading fast. He could hear his brother now, as well as the crackle of the fire and the sound of wind outside, blowing through trees he had not detected before.

"The runes are linked to your physical abilities," Loki whispered. "Your senses. Your strength. I will break the others soon."

He was going to do no such thing. Thor wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled for overextending himself in such a way.

The tracker had only managed to hit one of the brothers with his attack yet had profoundly weakened them both. Thor had already vowed to kill him for what he had done to Loki in the past, and now the tracker had brought injury to him yet again. It was not often that an enemy provoked such fury in Thor. He pitied the tracker for the retribution that would soon be headed his way.

They were left with no other choice but to rest, wrapped up in unfamiliar, stale-smelling blankets and the comfort of each other's arms. The unattended fire died out, yet not even the cold was inspiration enough to move and tend to it. They slept well past midday, burrowed there together like foxes huddled in a snowy den.

When Thor awoke, his arms were empty and cold. There was a pit in his stomach, and his right arm pained him greatly. The blackened skin of his mark in particular was sensitive to the touch, but there was a much deeper ache that bothered him more. It seemed rooted in his very heart. Had Loki felt this way in New York after he'd been marked?

Thor found his brother sitting up beside him and wiping flakes of dried blood from beneath his nose. He looked beautiful there in the bright, frigid room, with his pale skin and eyes so unapologetically green.

"He designed the runes this way on purpose," Loki said as he set about tending to the fire. "To make them almost impossible to remove one by one. The second was a thousand times more difficult to deconstruct than the first. I think that if we somehow managed to escape his initial attack, he wanted to ensure we were still crippled. I need to find a more efficient way to break their hold on you, and that will require research."

_You will figure it out_ , Thor thought right before he again succumbed to sleep.

The next time he stirred, night had fallen, but the fire still burned bright.

The room was warmer now—almost too much so. There was a lifeless pillow beneath Thor's head, and Loki was again sitting on the floor beside him, though this time lost in a book.

It was an enormous grimoire with pages so aged, they smelled of mildew. The cracked binding seemed close to disintegrating into dust. Loki chewed a thumbnail as he studied it. Where he had gotten the book was a mystery, for it seemed out of place in their lonely cabin in the woods. There were other books as well. Half a dozen, at least.

Thor put a hand on his brother's leg in greeting and was rewarded with a look of relief from Loki. It appeared he was feeling better. Color had returned to his face, but the same could not be said about Thor. He could hear and breathe now, but he still lacked strength and the ability to speak.

Loki made him drink water and fed him bites of food by hand, even though Thor felt neither thirst nor hunger. While he worked, Loki spoke to him in a one-sided conversation. He explained where they were—in a cabin located about forty miles outside of Oslo. He had used it before when the crowds of Midgard began to grate at his nerves, and he felt the need to retreat and be alone.

It made him think of home, he explained, for the people in the surrounding lands held myths about the gods of Asgard. Further to the north, they had even named a mountain range after the realm of the frost giants, perhaps in memory of their attack on Midgard in centuries past.

"I ventured into the city to get food and supplies while you slept," Loki told him. "I also went to the library. Several of them, actually. On different continents. The runes on your arm point to no language found on Midgard, so these books will not help me in that regard. However, there are similarities to other languages I am more familiar with. That's how I knew which rune to target first. But even though I can make out what they say, it is the _type_ of magic I don't fully understand. It is wild, changing—unlike anything I have ever encountered."

Thor was still flat on his back, helpless on the floor, but it was comforting to hear his brother speak. It reminded him of when they were boys, and Loki would recite stories for him before bedtime. Thor closed his hand around his brother's wrist and stroked at the pulse with his thumb.

"While I was out, I found a newspaper that detailed the attack in Barcelona," Loki said. "The hotel still stands, which is something of a miracle, but there were reports of injuries on the street. They found Mjölnir, but no mention was made of the tracker's rifle. Though they didn't name the organization specifically, I think it's safe to assume SHIELD is involved. It was implied that one of their agents died, perhaps after touching your weapon, which means it is still cursed. They'll blame it all on us, I'm sure."

The pit in Thor's stomach dug impossibly deeper. More innocent blood spilled. And for what?

"SHIELD does not concern me," Loki said. "The tracker does. You traveled with him for months. I need you to tell me everything you remember about his methods. I also need to understand what he knows about _my_ magic. To do that effectively, you must be able to communicate with me." His eyes shifted to Thor's blackened hand. "Do you think you can write?"

Thor thought about it, tried to make a fist, and shook his head.

Loki sighed. "Then I intend to break the rune that silences your tongue before I target the one tied to your strength. The fifth rune—the one that is incomplete—I think that one was meant to blind you, but you dropped Mjölnir before it could take hold. Is your eyesight badly affected?"

A shrug. Thor's vision was much poorer than normal, to be sure, but he could see well enough. That was the least of his worries.

"Any objections to my plan thus far?" Loki said.

Thor tugged weakly at his brother's hand, an invitation to join him on the rug. The only objection he had was that Loki was sitting so far away.

"I know his type, Thor," Loki said, slightly scolding. "We must remain alert and ready to defend ourselves if he manages to find us again. It will happen eventually. That mark on your hand ties you to him. I can blur the connection temporarily, but that will not work forever. If it is true he already has the Tesseract, then he can fulfill his contract to his buyer without fear of being stopped. We present no obstacle to him, and it therefore stands to reason he has no motive to keep pursuing us. But this is not about reason. He is a hunter who has smelled blood, and he has tried and failed to kill us twice. He will keep trying because it is now a matter of pride. And I'm not sure if you've noticed this yet, but he holds a particular grudge against you. You don't craft that kind of magic without pouring hatred into it. What in Valhalla's name did you do to piss him off? Besides act like yourself, I mean."

Thor had no idea what he had done, nor did he care. He and the tracker had never gotten along, not even when they shared the same mission for all those long months.

He pulled at Loki's hand again, wanting him closer. Loki closed his book and set it aside with another sigh. He looked exhausted. Running on fumes.

Together, they stretched out in front of the fireplace, face to face, both their heads resting on a single pillow. Firelight flickered across Loki's skin, warming his features and making him look much younger than before. His hands were no longer bandaged, but there were still faint scratches and red marks on his skin, much like Thor's. Loki held his body tense, even when Thor lifted his uninjured hand to stroke his cheek in the hope of soothing some of it away.

He wished he could tell Loki how proud he was of him. Not only had he protected them from the tracker's vicious attack, but he had saved Thor's life. Twice. He had also delivered them to a safe haven, secured supplies, conducted research, and started on the development of a plan. And he'd done every bit of it on his own.

Thor leaned in to nuzzle the side of his brother's face in silent thanks. It felt good. Necessary. Too many hours had passed without enough physical contact. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across Loki's lower lip and kissed him.

It was a quiet gesture, lacking in both energy and passion, yet Loki responded to it immediately. He let out a soft moan, and the sound of it was equal parts relief and frustration.

His fingers curled around the back of Thor's neck as he parted his lips against the kiss to ask for more. All too soon, Loki pushed gently on his brother's shoulder and rolled on top of him. His thigh pressed between both of Thor's until they spread in acquiescence.

There was an edge of desperation to Loki's movements. A surprising depth to his hunger. It was not unusual to feel a rush of lust after surviving an ordeal, but this was something more. In Barcelona, he had told Thor the physical side of their relationship helped him feel like he wasn't flying apart.

It wasn't sex Loki was after. It was proximity.

Thor met every kiss gladly, taking from it a good amount of comfort himself, until exhaustion began to get the better of him. It pulled him downward until he imagined he might actually fall straight through the floor and into the earth beneath the cabin. Would this feeling of weakness ever end?

Loki seemed to sense the change and drew back a degree. He studied his brother with a wary edge of fear gleaming in his eyes. "It's funny," he said. "You would think I would enjoy seeing you rendered silent and weaker than me. But I hate it, Thor. I hate every second of it, and I swear to you that I will find a way to fix this. Believe me when I say I am going to _unmake_ that sadistic son of a bitch."

A fleeting smile touched Thor's expression. _Get in line_ , his eyes said.

Loki smiled back—though sadly, with a thousand apologies and regrets tainting it. He lowered himself back down onto his brother's chest and hid his face there.

Thor hugged Loki with all the strength his arms could manage and rubbed at his back until he stopped trembling. Only then did he let himself fall asleep.

* * *

To be continued.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally supposed to be the second half of Chapter 13, but it got to be way too long. So as an apology for posting it in two parts, here's the rest of the club scene from Loki's point of view. (Because he said some things to Thor that I didn't reveal in Chapter 6, and far be it from me to pass up an opportunity to ramp up the angst.)
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @[pro-antagonist](http://pro-antagonist.tumblr.com/) to hear about updates.

 

(New York)

" _You can't be real," Loki said with a crooked little smile. He wanted to laugh because surely his brother could not actually be standing there, looking at him like that._

_Like he wanted to fuck him._

" _He wouldn't find me here. Not when there's a world in need of saving." Loki's fingers tightened around Thor's shirt and demanded he move closer. "I must have dreamed you up."_

_Of course it was a dream. A delusion born from want. The result of too many days of comfort playing tricks on his head. Or perhaps the mortal man who had propositioned him earlier was a closer match than he realized._

" _Mmm, but you smell like him." Loki's hips pushed forward, in search of contact, and kept moving even when they found it. "Perhaps I am mistaken."_

_He knew he was drunk. He had taken great pains, in fact, to achieve that end. To drive all sense and reason from his mind except the desire to do exactly what he wanted and_ nothing else _. What a relief it was not to be ruled by the past or future. There was only the here and now, and he was going to make the most of it before it all fell to ruin._

_So he did the unthinkable. He pressed his lips to his brother's neck and smiled rather wickedly as he did so. It felt a bit like a free fall from a great height. Dangerous. Addictive. This was the reckless part of his mind that he'd never dared reveal to another before now._

_Thor's hand went immediately to Loki's hip—soft but possessive heat encompassing bone—and oh, the delusion was good. He imagined dropping to his knees right there, eyes cast upward so that he could watch Thor's reaction to the sight of his little brother mouthing his cock through his pants._

_But the fantasy was soon interrupted. Thor's arms were suddenly tight around him, and the lights blurred and bled into streaks. His brother's chest rumbled as he spoke, but Loki was too drunk to understand. He_ _was only partially aware that he was being half-carried downstairs and then toward the club's entrance. They had to pass through the dancefloor to get there._

_He cringed at the brightness of the lights and the throng of moving bodies. All of it served only to disorient him. He didn't want to go that way. No, he wanted Thor to take him someplace dark and punish him the way he knew he deserved._

_Loki stumbled in front of his brother, spun around, and tried to block Thor's path._ _"Stop pretending, hero. I know you want to fuck me."_

_The music carried the words away, but there was no ignoring the way Loki suggestively positioned his body when he said them._

" _You think you're so good at hiding it, but I've known for years. That's why you came here to Midgard in search of me, isn't it? Not because we're brothers—but because we_ aren't _. Because you can finally take what you want without guilt. Let's have it then, Odinson. Or shall we find your weapon first and put it to good use?"_

" _Stop it," Thor growled and pushed him forward._

_And it was those two words that drove a pang of doubt deep into Loki's heart—because the Thor in his fantasy would have said the exact opposite._

_He dragged Loki away from the lights and noise. Up the entryway stairs and out onto the street. The cold air outside was a slap to the face. It sobered him up enough to wonder if he had really just said those unthinkable things to his actual, flesh-and-blood brother. Who, yes, probably did want to fuck him but had never had the audacity to say that to his face._

_It made Loki want to laugh again—at the irony, if nothing else—but instead, he chose to put up a fight._

_Because as much as he'd wanted Thor to find him, he was only going to force Loki to go home again. Back to Asgard, which was essentially a prison sentence at this point. Odin would never let him go._

_How could he have been so stupid to forget that? Why hadn't he tried harder to run?_

_Loki knew all too well how this story would end, and heroes did not betray their kings for the sake of a monster._

* * *

(The Cabin – Outside of Oslo)

"I want to try something," Loki said. He rubbed the side of one finger along the groove below his lower lip in thought. "Do you feel well enough?"

Knowing that Thor could not speak and would be forced to give a visual response, Loki glanced up from the grimoire that rested on his lap. He was seated upon the floor near the fireplace, choosing to ignore the leather armchair by the window. Perhaps it was to take advantage of the firelight, which might aid in his nighttime reading, but Thor liked to think it was because his little brother wanted to be close to him.

Three full days had passed in the cabin, and Thor had spent much of that time unconscious. He was still stretched out on the rug, useless and miserable, but no matter how much he slept, not even a fraction of his energy was restored.

During his banishment to Midgard one year ago, he had vowed never again to take his strength for granted. This seemed an unnecessary punishment . . . though there were moments when he felt he deserved it. Loki had likely felt this exact same frustration when his seiðr was bound, and Thor had stood by for days without doing everything in his power to help him. He had already apologized, but the memory still filled him with shame. There was nothing he could do about it now except learn from the experience. Next time, he would do better.

Although it was difficult to move, Thor sat up and offered his brother his injured arm. He did not think he could stand another second of this helplessness and would gladly endure hours of torment if he could be freed from it.

Loki set the grimoire aside, along with his journal, which he had started to fill with notes, diagrams, and thoughts. He crawled over to where his brother sat, but when he reached out, Thor pulled his arm back a degree. His eyes spelled out a warning.

"Oh, are you _frightened_?" Loki teased. "Shall we have a cuddle to calm your tattered nerves before I begin? Poor thing."

This might have annoyed Thor had it not reminded him of the good-natured rivalry they'd shared as boys. There was no ire in Loki's tone, and the mischievous gleam in his eyes was a reminder of happier days spent laughing and trading banter in Asgard. In his own way, Loki was trying to tell him there was nothing to worry about—and maybe even get him to crack a smile for the first time that day.

Thor shook his head and pointed at his brother's chest in the hopes that he would understand.

"Yes, yes," Loki said. "You need not concern yourself. I will take care not to push past my limits. Beyond that, I can promise nothing. It is only a theory that may well prove futile, though I do think it worth a try."

Thor gave him a look that said, _You'd better not be lying to me_ , and extended his arm.

Loki placed his hands over the runes on his brother's inner forearm. The wild vines of the tracker's mark appeared to spread out from his palms. Thor's skin was as raw as an open wound, but he was surprised to discover Loki's touch was gentle, even pleasing. His cool hands soothed away some of the heat of the injuries.

As he often did before a working, Loki closed his eyes and said nothing for some time.

Thor expected pain to soon follow, just as it had when his brother deconstructed the first two runes. However, nothing happened for so long that his eyelids began to droop. Yet again, exhaustion began to pull him under.

Then all at once came a sound like rushing water in his ears, and he jolted awake.

Goosebumps erupted all over his arm and quickly traveled through the rest of him. The shock of cold drove the breath from his lungs. It felt like he had jumped into icy water. Although the room was warm from the fire, his breath froze into a cloud of condensation before his face and then dissipated. The cold was coming from within him.

No . . . it was coming from Loki.

Something snapped, like a tiny fracture sent through solid ice.

Loki cracked open an eye. "Did that hurt at all?"

Thor could have sworn he saw the color crimson swirling in the iris of Loki's eye but decided it was only his imagination playing tricks on him. Perhaps a reflection of the fire.

He shivered while he considered the question and shook his head. It had surprised him, to be sure, but there was no pain. Only that rush of cold.

"I did not remove the rune that prevents you from speaking," Loki said, "but I did weaken it. A small fissure. Do you feel any different?"

Thor shook his head again and looked down at his forearm. Just as his brother had suggested, there was now a small crack driven through the thick lettering of one of the runes. His own skin could be seen through the gap.

"Are you certain?" Loki said. "Try to speak."

Thor hummed, and as the warmth of his voice filled the room, his face lit up with joy. He still couldn't form actual words, but he was beyond pleased that he had managed even a sound.

"Well, then," Loki said, a smile of his own dancing in his eyes. "I daresay we're getting somewhere."

* * *

For the remainder of the night, Loki worked on the speech rune—slowly, methodically driving crack after crack through it. He paused between each attempt and studied the rune like he was searching for the weakest point to target next.

Thor was so cold from these ministrations that sleep evaded him for the first time since his arrival in the cabin. He both loved and hated that. His teeth chattered, and he fantasized about crawling into the fireplace and slumbering there amongst the flames.

Though he had no idea why this particular brand of magic felt like winter itself had taken up residence in his body, he suspected it had something to do with Loki's true parentage. Was there perhaps a type of magic he never knew he was capable of until now? Whatever he was doing was working, and that was all that mattered. Best of all, his seiðr did not appear significantly drained, which pleased Thor to no end.

Occasionally, Loki did pause to rest and rub his brother's half-frozen hands between his own. He held them to his mouth and warmed them with his breath. "Holding up all right?"

Thor hummed again. The velvet soft heat of his brother's lips distracted him, but he managed a nod. "Don't stop."

Loki's smile spread against Thor's skin. "Keep talking to me, and I won't."

Little by little, the words came easier, and by daybreak, Thor's ability to speak had vastly improved. He had to work for every word—a bit like pushing a boulder uphill—but when had he ever shied away from a challenge?

By the time Loki had driven dozens of cracks into the rune, Thor was struggling through entire sentences and gaining confidence by the second.

"Will you do the same to the other rune? The one that binds my strength," Thor said. Hours had passed since he had last slept, and even with the cold keeping him awake, it was getting more and more difficult to resist the pull of exhaustion. "I cannot tell you about the tracker if I'm fighting sleep."

Loki paused to consider this. "A valid point. But I wonder if you understand that shattering the rune will not restore you to your full power? I can weaken its hold on you, but the mark will remain. You will have to struggle, the same way you are now when you speak."

"I thought you would be able to remove the runes altogether once they were weakened?"

"Well, it is possible, but not as simple as you make it sound. In breaking the rune into so many pieces, I'm in effect making it more difficult to remove. At least not without a considerable number of hours of meticulous work. Think of it like this. A complete rune can be deconstructed as a single object. That is no longer the case. Each sliver now has to be removed on its own, and that is no easy task to be done in a single evening, much less a month if you're lucky. It might not even be possible to completely be rid of it all."

Thor was appalled by this news, and he wrenched his arm free from his brother's hands. "Then why are you making them more difficult to remove?"

"Because once the tracker is dead, his magic dies with him. That means the marks vanish on their own." Loki glared as he got to his feet and stepped away, obviously put off by the accusation. "Did you think I meant to leave you like this?"

"No." The level of Thor's chin dropped. He felt so much colder without Loki's hands on his skin. "No, I am sorry."

The apology seemed to bemuse Loki, as though he had expected more of a fight. "Do you still want me to do it? I warned you for a reason, brother. It is one thing to live having to struggle for words and another to—"

"Yes," Thor said. "Do it. I cannot kill the tracker if I'm unable to rise from the floor."

"I still don't think you understand. I can get you mobile again, but you need to have realistic expectations. Your strength will only be a fraction of what it normally is. If you rush into a fight with him, it may very well be your last."

Thor closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to hear it.

"I'm serious, Thor. I'm not foolish enough to ask you to sit out of a fight altogether. We both know you would never agree to that. But I will not weaken the rune that binds your strength until you swear to me we will develop a plan we _both_ agree upon. Brother, I cannot . . . ." Loki looked down, suddenly overcome with emotion. He had to take several breaths through his nose before he was able to speak again. "We have only just found a measure of peace in each other's company. Do not ask me to be alone again."

"If you think I care about my strength or pride more than I love you, little brother, you are very much mistaken."

Loki wavered where he stood. He still didn't look happy, but it was like he'd expected a blow but had instead been offered an outstretched hand to take. He wasn't certain what to do with it.

"Of course we will agree upon a plan," Thor said. "I swear it."

Loki sniffed and straightened, doing his best to stuff the emotion back down again. "Very well. I will do as you ask. Though are you certain you don't wish to rest first? You're practically frozen."

"Come closer this time. I think it might help."

They arranged themselves in front of the fire again, this time with Thor's back resting against the stone hearth to keep him as warm as possible. Loki sat in front of him with his back against Thor's chest. Thor's arms surrounded him from behind, one wrapped around Loki's middle and the other captured in his hands so that he could work on the fourth rune.

Not only did Thor feel much warmer in this position, but it was a delight to have his brother so close. It reminded him of how they'd sat back in the New York apartment, before the open balcony doors with blank pages blowing in the air all around them. It seemed an age had passed since that moment. So much between them had changed.

His hand moved across Loki's stomach—applying just the slightest promise of pressure, dragging the fabric of his shirt along a slow, purposeful path.

"Mmm," Loki said, unable to keep still. "Well, this isn't going to make it difficult to concentrate at all."

Thor chuckled and kissed his brother's neck. Loki's squirming was the best thing he'd felt all day. "Distraction only serves to sharpen your skills. Think of it as me helping you refine your talent."

"Alternately, it could permanently damage your arm."

Thor nipped at an earlobe. "I will let you work. For now." He rested his head on Loki's shoulder, lulled by his scent and warmth, and closed his eyes.

"Stay awake, please," Loki said. "I still need you to tell me about the tracker. We've yet to formulate a plan, and judging from my past experiences with him, I doubt he will be easy to outsmart."

"He never shared anything about himself or his tracking methods." Thor shivered involuntarily as he felt a now all-too-familiar rush of cold shoot through him. Loki was working again.

"Then what did you observe? You must have noticed something in the months you traveled together. Even if you didn't understand what he was doing, describing it might help."

Thor winced as the first crack appeared in the rune that bound his strength. It took a moment before his lips would cooperate and form the words. "He was interested in visiting places you had been before. We started in Asgard. In the Vault where you were last seen. And he spent a great deal of time in your chambers."

Loki turned his head to make sure his brother caught sight of his scowl. He had always hated intruders in his room. "And what did he do there? Sniff? Scratch at the ground? I realize it's difficult for you to speak, but I do need details."

"He would just . . . stand there. As though he was listening for something. At times he would lift his hands like there was something in the air around him. He would grab at it." Thor demonstrated with his uninjured hand, like he was trying to catch a strand of hair floating in the air. "Like that. It was as though he had been searching for a piece of string, and when he found it, the other end was attached to you."

"If that is the case, tracking me down should not have taken as long as it did. He could have followed this 'string' straight to me."

"I told him that as well. Many times. He was able to follow whatever trail he'd found to the outskirts of the realm. We found a cave there."

Loki stilled. "What cave?"

"Judging from your reaction, I think you already know. Did you go there before you left Asgard?"

"Perhaps."

"Loki . . . ."

A sigh. "The Bifröst is not the only way to leave Asgard. There are other paths—if you know how to find and direct them, that is."

"I take it the pathway in that cave is also how you let the Jötnar into Asgard?"

"I do so hate when you pay attention. But let us not venture off topic." There was another _crack_ as Loki sent a second fissure through the rune. "What happened after the tracker found the cave? Was he able to follow this 'string' any further?"

Thor found himself sitting up a bit straighter. He was still tired, but it was getting easier to concentrate. "No. The trail went cold. He said you were no longer in Asgard like it was some kind of grand revelation. As if we didn't already know that. You can understand why I did not get along with him. I thought he was wasting our time and had no qualms about telling him as much."

"Well, you certainly did a thorough job of angering him," Loki muttered as he rotated his brother's arm to inspect the tracker's work. "Go on. How did he attempt to find me after that?"

"We left Asgard and visited other realms instead. Even the spaces between Yggdrasil's branches. The tracker can teleport within a single realm like you, but we needed Heimdall to take us beyond that. It seemed to me he chose our destinations at random, like he was trying to catch wind of you again. It took far too long, and more than once, we came close to trading blows over it. It wasn't until our arrival on Midgard that he acted like he'd found something, but it was still months before we located you. We traveled from city to city, but the trail kept going cold when you teleported elsewhere. We would have to start again. What do you think he was doing?"

"Metaphorically?" Loki said. "Feeling around for my seiðr. A working is derived from energy that exists all around us. We are surrounded by it, and it is tangible to those who possess certain talents. But although I refer to my seiðr as _mine_ , it is no such thing. I draw upon it, but it does not belong to me nor is it born of me. How the tracker is able to know which strands of seiðr have been connected to me specifically as opposed to the rest of the universe is . . . unexpected. But I do think that is somehow within his abilities. I could literally feel him at times before you found me in New York. It was like having a ghost touch the ends of my hair. And before you ask, yes, I feel it even now. He's still looking for us, brother."

"Then we find him first."

"How easy you make that sound. This information does tell me one thing. The tracker cannot easily find us unless we stay in one location for a long period of time. That was my mistake in New York. I became . . . apathetic."

Thor rubbed his mouth across his brother's shoulder. That was a terribly inadequate word to describe the condition he'd found Loki in. Unwashed, starving, depressed. So angry and full of hatred—and the vast majority of it aimed inward, at himself.

"There is one other thing I remember about the tracker," Thor said. "Something that bothered me greatly at the time. It happened in New York after you slipped away from me in that restaurant and fled on foot."

"You found me later that night," Loki recalled, "no doubt with his help. But even I expected that. I couldn't teleport with my seiðr bound, nor could I blur the connection between the tracker and the marks he'd given me the way I am now doing with yours. It would not have been difficult for him to follow my trail. Is that not what he did?"

"Not the way you're describing. He implied he didn't have to physically follow you to discover where you were. He already knew. He said something about being able to count your breaths and how many steps you had taken. I don't know if he was bluffing, but I didn't like it."

Loki blinked several times. Then he released Thor's arm and turned his entire body around to look at him. "What?"

Thor shrugged. "That's what he claimed."

Loki stared at him, apprehension written all over his face and body. His gaze fell to Thor's arm.

It was a reminder that the runes were not their only problem. Thor was also in possession of the vine-like markings that bore a striking resemblance to the ones Loki once had on his own body.

"I thought you knew some of this already," Thor asked. "Don't you remember what mother said when she removed your marks? The tracker was in your thoughts. I think that is how he gathered information on the Tesseract and knew where to claim it."

"Yes," Loki said, "but it's one thing to briefly dig around in someone's head and another to take up residence inside of it. From a distance, no less. That doesn't make any sense. Not with the way I understand magic. I need to think on it."

"Do you suppose he now has the same connection with me? That he already knows where we are?"

"If so, he would have followed you days ago and finished us both off while we were at our weakest. No, you underestimate the wards I've shielded us with. I did not have those to protect my whereabouts in New York. Still, that is most unforeseen, and I do not like waiting around for him to pounce. We must determine a way to get the upper hand on him, for he has already had too much time to formulate a plan of his own."

They both fell to contemplation. Outside the cabin, wind whistled through bare-branched trees that had long been stripped of anything green.

"Do you remember when we were taken by SHIELD?" Loki said after a time. "They told us they had a method of locating the Tesseract's energy signature. If it is true the tracker indeed has possession of it, we could use that to our advantage."

"No. Too many Midgardians have died because of him. I will not endanger the inhabitants of this realm again."

"I don't suppose you have a better idea?"

"Well, there is one obvious place we could turn to for assistance. After all, it is father's fault we're being pursued to begin with. I think it likely he would thank us for the opportunity."

Loki's expression hardened into stone.

"Though that will be your decision to make," Thor finished, hoping to soften the statement. "I would not reach out to Asgard without your consent."

"Good," Loki said. "Then allow me to formally withdraw it. Remove the possibility from your mind. If you and I are to continue on as companions, you need to respect my limits."

"I have already given you my word that I would, brother," Thor said gently.

"Tell me about the tracker's weaknesses. I have noticed he does not like to engage in hand-to-hand combat."

"He is cowardly indeed. Not once has he faced an enemy head on but instead relies on his magic alone."

Loki's jaw worked, and he drew in a slow breath before he spoke. It was as if his temper had to be mitigated before he lost hold of it. "That's easy, then. We lure him into a fight. One with no magic involved, which means we must rob him of his ability to use it. Though I must warn you, setting a trap like that will also result in the loss of my own powers. But as you once told me, some do battle and others only _tricks_." He paused to smile, bitterness tainting every inch of it. "Though I wonder if you've ever noticed I can do both? Tell me, brother. Did you ever deride the use of magic in front of the tracker the way you so often do with me?"

Thor winced.

"Are you still wondering why he hates you?"

"We finish him together then," Thor said. "With our might alone. I like this plan. I could lure him to the location of our choice by summoning Mjölnir."

" _Without_ touching it," Loki said. "May I remind you we do not yet know if your weapon is still cursed? We are facing a battle where both of us will be disarmed of our preferred methods of fighting."

"If I cannot use Mjölnir, we should consider obtaining other weapons."

"I think you will find no sword or axe on Midgard that would not break under your strength, even limited as it is. I once heard Heimdall speak of an unbreakable shield, but we've not the time to locate it."

"I have seen you conjure knives from thin air before," Thor pointed out.

"Well, now—that would only count as a _trick_ , wouldn't it?"

"Brother."

Loki glared at him, not bothering to mask even a hint of his irritation.

"I am sorry," Thor said. "If ever I discounted your magic in the past, it was only because I was jealous that you had the same gifts as our parents, and I did not. And before I forget to say it, thank you for using those gifts to save my life and free me from the tracker's bonds." He held out his injured arm and raised his brow in inquiry. "Forgive me?"

When Loki only looked away in response to this, thinned lipped and stoic, it became apparent to Thor how deeply he had hurt his brother in the past. Yet another thing he needed to work on. They might be in a much better place than they were only days ago, but their friendship was still in dire need of repairs.

"Let us break the rune's hold on your strength and get out of this place," Loki said. "I grow tired of the cold."

* * *

By the time the sun disappeared beyond the wooded horizon, Thor felt as though he might never be warm again. Beyond that, he was ecstatic, for the runes on his arm were utterly shattered. He could walk again, perhaps even run if he so desired, and he could not stop smiling.

Nor could he sit still. Not after so many days on his back. He paced from one end of the cabin to the other, made small talk, rubbed his hands together to warm them, and very much resembled a child who'd been fed too much honey.

He realized this but didn't care. Nothing could dampen his good mood. When he volunteered to gather and carry the supplies they'd accumulated, he did not even feel a hint of irritation when Loki called him an idiot. He instead hid his collection of heavy books in an interdimensional pocket he summoned between his hands.

"Where shall we go?" Thor said, practically bouncing with excitement.

Loki rolled his eyes and pulled on his coat. As he checked to make sure his journal was tucked safely away in the inner pocket, he said, "I believe I've changed my mind. I liked it better when you couldn't talk."

Thor laughed and clapped his brother on the back. His joy must have been infectious because even Loki cracked a reluctant smile before he placed his hand over his brother's where it rested upon his shoulder.

Together, they teleported away.

They traveled only a short distance—into the city of Oslo itself. In spite of Thor's confidence in his newfound strength, Loki had remained skeptical. He had wanted to test Thor's limits before committing to a leap across greater distances and therefore chose a location within easy reach.

It shouldn't have affected Thor in the least, but the brief trip was instead like a physical blow.

It winded him. His vision swam, and it felt as though someone had stuffed his ears full of cotton. His first experience with the Bifröst had felt somewhat like this, but he had been a small child then. And the power behind Loki's teleportation paled in comparison to the might of the Bifröst.

The mark on Thor's arm throbbed in time with the too-quick beat of his heart, but he disciplined his reaction to it. He did not want Loki to know of this moment of weakness because it would only make him worry. Thor held his breath so that he wouldn't be seen gasping. He smiled at his brother, hoping to convince him all was well.

"You're going to be sick, aren't you?" Loki said.

Thor kept smiling but gave a little nod.

Loki sighed and straightened his coat. "I suddenly find myself in need of a drink. Shall we?"

They chose a restaurant near the harbor to stop at and break bread together. As they dined on seafood and wine, they looked out at the fjord and the boats lining the docks. The dark sky beyond seemed to stretch into the haze of eternity.

Thor had trouble making out the finer details. His eyesight was still affected by the tracker's fifth, incomplete rune. Out here in the open, this handicap was more obvious than it had been in the cabin. It was difficult to focus. There seemed to be a glare over everything, but he could see well enough to hide this partial blindness from Loki. Judging from his body language, he did not need anything new to feel anxious about.

"It doesn't look much like Asgard," Thor said, "but you're right. There is something about this place that is reminiscent of home. Even the food tastes familiar. Did you come here often during your travels?"

"Twice," Loki said, a faraway look in his eyes. His cheeks were bitten with color from the wine and the warmth of the food. "I enjoy the neighboring countries as well, though I will have to show them to you another time. I mean to return to North America next."

Thor wrinkled his nose. "It smells better here."

"Then I encourage you to take deep breaths while you can. If I'm to set a trap for the tracker that will bind his magic, I will need to find the right location. A place with certain energies, if you will. I have a location in mind." Loki toyed with the circular base of his wine glass. When he spoke again, his voice took on a quieter, more hesitant tone. "Are you certain you feel well enough for another jump? It will not be as easy as the last."

"I do," Thor said and hoped he wasn't lying. "Whatever you did to the runes worked wonders, so you needn't worry. But though my strength has much recovered, I am also in no rush to depart. Perhaps we could take a walk along the waterfront before we go?" His fingers slid over the top of his brother's hand where it had come to rest on the table beside his wine glass. He wished Loki would look at him.

But Loki only stared down at their joined hands. "May I ask you something?" he said after a long pause. "When did you start to think of me this way? I know it has been a while."

"You noticed the attraction in Asgard, then," Thor said.

"I thought I was imagining it when we were younger. I would catch you watching me, or you would say something that might have a double meaning."

"I have always thought of you as mine. As far back as I can remember."

Loki withdrew his hand from beneath Thor's and sat back in his chair. "Then why did you not act upon it before now? Every time I thought you might do something, you only pushed me away."

"I suppose I thought my advances would be unwelcome."

"No," Loki said. "You might have been the one that originally put the thought into my head, what with all those times I caught you staring, but I don't recall ever looking away. I stared right back at you. I wouldn't have resisted, and I think you knew that even then."

It struck Thor as odd, the way his brother was talking—like there was an unspoken accusation beneath the words. "What are you implying?"

"Do I really have to say it?" Loki still wouldn't look at him.

"Apparently so, for I do not follow you at all," Thor said.

"I think in Asgard, you wouldn't touch me because you thought we were brothers, and the only reason you're willing to bed me now is because you've discovered we aren't."

"That isn't . . . ." Thor trailed off as it hit him exactly how hurtful that statement was. To both of them. And the more he thought about it, the worse it became. Deeper and deeper layers of hurt kept revealing themselves until Thor could barely sit still in his chair. " _Loki_. How could you even think something like that?"

It was tempting to yell at him. After everything they'd been through, how frustrating it was to have his intentions constantly cast into doubt. But the look on Loki's face only served to temper Thor's anger. How unhappy Loki must be, even now.

But Thor knew his little brother. They had been in this place before—with Loki lashing out in order to test Thor's willingness to hold on. Surely he didn't actually think those awful things were true. No, this was Loki's fear talking, and speaking the truth was the only way to combat it.

"I only kissed you," Thor said, "because I thought I was never going to see you again, and it was the last chance I had to tell you how I felt."

Loki sucked in his cheeks and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Tears had pooled in them that he clearly did not intend to let fall. Both brothers were all too aware of the restaurant around them, which was not crowded but neither was it empty. This was not the place for such a private conversation, but what choice was there?

"And if you recall, I apologized for it immediately afterward," Thor continued, "because I did not mean to impose myself on you or rob you of anything. If what you have accused me of was true, I would not have hesitated in that moment. In fact, it would have happened much sooner. But you have a right to a normal relationship with your brother, Loki, and I would give that to you even now if that is what you needed from me. I did not touch you again until you reached out to me first. We made that decision together."

"But why only now?" Loki said, still unsatisfied. "Why did you push me away in Asgard if you wanted me back then?"

"Because I was trying to protect you. I did everything in my power to divert my attention elsewhere. I don't deny that."

"Then why was New York different?" Loki shot back.

"Because _our mother_ told me to shower you with physical affection," Thor said, in danger of losing his temper. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice so that the restaurant's patrons would not overhear. "She knew you responded well to touch and thought it might bring you a measure of comfort when you were in pain. And I gladly did as she asked because _I missed you_ and wanted you so close that I couldn't possibly lose you again. New York happened, Loki, because we haven't shared the same bed for centuries, and I am not made of stone. It happened because your scent was in my head. Must you overcomplicate _everything_?"

Loki was finally looking at him. His mouth twitched as he resisted the pull of a smile. "You're actually going to try to blame this . . . on our mother?"

Thor threw his napkin down on the table and glared, in no mood to play games.

But amusement had already seized control of Loki and seemed unwilling to release him. He pressed a hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the laughter at bay, but his chest and shoulders began to shake with it anyway. "My dearest brother . . . ."

"Don't say it," Thor muttered—but even he was now having trouble not smiling.

"I _truly_ don't think going balls-deep is what she had in mind," Loki blurted out and then dissolved into laughter.

Half a dozen Midgardians turned to look at them, and Thor could only shake his head as he endured the unwelcome attention. He was now utterly failing at fighting a smile.

Any residual tension between them was at once forgotten. The waiter chose that moment to stop by to collect their plates, and the interruption helped Loki focus and descend from the heights of hilarity. They gazed at each other from across the table, and the expression on Loki's face made Thor feel young again.

"Brother, tell me plainly," Thor said. "Do you want this thing between us to stop? Do you want your brother back and the rest of it forgotten? I swear, I would do it. You need only ask it of me."

"You honestly think we can take any of it back?" Loki said.

"I do. We have been brothers for centuries and lovers only days. If I cannot have both at the same time, then I prefer us to be brothers alone."

Loki fell silent. A candle burned on the table between them, and the wavering light had turned his eyes to gold. "No," he said eventually. "I don't want to take anything back. I just needed to understand it so that I could trust in it more."

"Then I am glad you spoke of it," Thor said. "We need to talk more, you and I. That has been the problem all along."

"You might be right," Loki said. "Though . . . I must admit to you, brother. Talking is not what is on my mind at present."

Thor leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingertips together. "Oh?"

* * *

They burst out of the back door of the restaurant, already pulling at each other's clothing and kissing like they were starving for it.

It was freezing outside. Wind blew in off the water and whipped their hair about their faces. Overhead, the sky was an explosion of stars. They were exposed here, standing under the halo of a streetlamp with no alley or shadows to conceal them from view. Thor could care less who might be watching.

He pushed his brother up against the wall of the restaurant and pinned his arms overhead. Their fingers slid together and interlocked. "Tell me you want it," he whispered against the wet corner of Loki's mouth.

" _Yes_ ," Loki breathed in reply. His hips pushed forward. He was already hard, zipper straining from the pressure. "Brother, please."

Which were precisely the three words Thor wanted to hear.

He hummed in pleasure and rubbed his lips against his brother's—not yet kissing him but seeking to feel that gorgeous, hot friction against his mouth. It was like tasting electricity. Only then, when Loki went lax with submission and lifted his chin a degree higher, did Thor proceed to claim that which was freely offered.

* * *

To be continued

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there's a prior scene you'd like to see as a Loki-point-of-view flashback. I do have something in mind, but you never know when inspiration will strike.
> 
> This story is turning out to be much longer than I originally intended. I hope you don't mind the rambling. :) Still with me? Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

(New York)

" _Go, brother," Thor said. His hand fell away from Loki's shoulder for the last time._

_The loss of its weight was disorienting. Loki felt strangely afloat, like he'd been untethered and pushed out to sea. Thor had at long last granted him his freedom . . . so why did it feel like something else?_

_Once when they were small boys, Thor had been charged with holding his little brother's hand during a crowded summertime festival. Somehow, they'd lost their grip on each other, and young Loki had spent the following hour in a panic, terrified he would never see his family again. He remembered feeling resentment that he had been so easily cast aside and forgotten—but also regret that he hadn't tried harder to hold on when he'd had the chance._

_It was ridiculous to feel that way now. He had begged Thor for this. Pleaded with him again and again. But even though there had been a thousand reasons why Loki wanted his brother out of his life forever, he suddenly found he could not remember any of them._

_Frigga was there in the apartment as well, her presence no less confusing than Thor's. Loki had trouble looking at her, for there was still too much hurt in his heart to allow for it. But in the periphery of his vision, he could see the nervous wringing of her hands, like she was trying her best not to reach out and stop him from leaving her again._

_He recognized the signs of fatigue in the way she held herself. She was hiding it well, but breaking the tracker's hold on Loki had affected her own stores of seiðr considerably. What she had done for him was a humbling reminder of who had taught him most of what he knew about magic._

_It was also treason. And for what? Letting Loki go did not benefit her in any way._

_None of it made any sense. Did the two of them not realize he was serious? Did they_ want _him to go? If he left this place, they would never see him again._

" _What are you waiting for?" Thor asked. "You're free."_

I don't know _, Loki wanted to say. But that wasn't true._

_Perhaps it had something to do with the kiss that was still drying on his lips. Or perhaps it was the realization that Thor hadn't been lying when he'd said he was on Loki's side._

_He thought of all Thor's fumbling attempts at taking care of him. Of sleepless nights spent listening to him breathe and wondering why he hadn't given up and left yet. He had nursed Loki back to health with uncharacteristic patience. Fed him. Listened to him. Tried to find ways to comfort and reassure him. He'd even brought Frigga here to plead with her to set Loki free._

_Thor had done his utmost to restore his brother's faith in his identity and the love of his family. At that moment, it didn't matter that he had failed. He had cared enough to try._

_When Loki reached out a hand to his brother, it was much more than an invitation to join him when he left New York City behind. He marveled at the astonishment and relief written all over Thor's face._

_Was it really so surprising?_

* * *

(Oslo)

"Thor," Loki whispered. He panted as his brother's mouth worked up the length of his throat, inspiring his chin to tilt higher by the second. "I think we should go."

"Mmm, somewhere more private." Thor nipped at his brother's jawline. His thumb ran across the already wet tip of Loki's cock while his other fingers tightened and tugged at the shaft. "I haven't had you since Barcelona."

Loki let out a soft moan, and his head lolled back against the outside wall of the restaurant they'd dined in earlier that night. Anyone could have seen them there, but that only added to the thrill. "No." He wet his lips, which were red and full from all the attention Thor had paid them. "No . . . I mean we should leave the city. Something's not right." With clumsy, unfocused movements, he brushed Thor's hand aside and set about refastening his pants.

Thor would have loved to ignore this warning—especially at a time like this, when blood was rushing in the opposite direction of his brain—but Loki's intuition about the tracker's movements had been correct too many times. How infuriating it was to be hounded like this.

Shielding Loki's body from sight with his own, Thor glanced behind them. He could see only the lighted docks lining the coastline and dark water beyond. Here and there, small groups of mortals could be seen going about their business, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"We could let him find us," Thor said. "Finish him here. Now. Except there are people in the area. . . ."

"That wasn't the plan," Loki said. "I've yet to set a trap."

Thor exhaled sharply, his temper getting the better of him. "Very well. Let us depart. But this is the last time, Loki. The sons of Odin do not flee from danger."

"Speak for yourself, Odinson." Loki extended his hand, a glint of defiance in his eyes. "Remember. This will not be as easy as the last teleportation, for your strength is—"

"My strength is more than adequate," Thor said, cutting him off. He took his brother's hand and squeezed it. "You worry too much."

Loki lifted an eyebrow. "And you too little."

Thor felt a tugging sensation as the teleportation spell pulled him forward, and then came the brilliant, flashing colors that raced and blurred in his vision. Faster and faster until he was overwhelmed by it. Scarcely able to breathe or think. Pressure squeezed his head from the inside. His skull felt too tight. His body, unfamiliar. Out of reach.

And then he began to feel the tearing . . . like something had its claws in him and didn't want him to go.

Thor's hand went limp within his brother's, and if not for Loki's firm grip on him, he might have slipped free. For all Thor knew, he did, because he blacked out soon afterward and was lost to the darkness for an indeterminate amount of time.

While unconscious, he dreamt of a snake with scales as black and gleaming as spilled ink. It had coiled its thick, heavy body around Thor's right arm with its head reared back, ready to strike.

The unblinking, lidless eyes had paralyzed Thor—not with fear but in mind and body. He could not move nor could he think. He was left only to watch helplessly as venom dripped from long twin fangs onto his skin, where it burned a familiar series of black runes onto his forearm.

The snake finally lunged, but it did not bite. Instead, it burrowed into Thor's chest—writhing madly, tail whipping—until it found a way inside.

When Thor woke from the dream, it was in startled silence, for he was half-convinced he had just died.

But no . . . the dead could not feel pain. The snake had only existed in his mind. The tracker's mark, however, had never felt more like a living thing. It pulsed in time with the beat of Thor's heart as if it was a parasite feeding off his life-force. His left hand went to his chest to make sure it was still whole.

Slowly, Thor's new surroundings came into focus, and it occurred to him that he was lying on the ground in a bed of grass. It felt cool and slippery against his back, but the earth beneath it was much warmer. He stared blankly at the cloudy blue sky overhead. But hadn't it just been nighttime? He remembered stars. . . .

Loki was there, kneeling beside him, one hand on Thor's face. "Brother, can you hear me?"

As Thor registered the words, he realized it wasn't the first time Loki had said them. Thor swallowed and shut his eyes briefly, then nodded in response to the question. He had no idea where they were, but it felt very much like he'd left part of himself back in Oslo.

"I'm fine," he said, a bit too slowly. His tongue was thick and sluggish, still affected by the tracker's rune.

"No, you aren't." Loki's voice was calm, but there was something brewing beneath it. "I've been trying to wake you for the last ten minutes."

Thor considered this information but wasn't certain what to do with it. The pain in his arm made it difficult to focus.

He tried to sit up, but Loki had to help him before he succeeded. Thor extended his forearm and stared down at the tracker's marks. Part of him expected to catch them moving, but they looked just as they had before. The shattered runes that Loki had worked so many hours to weaken were still there. Nothing about them had changed, but Thor felt different.

"Are you in pain?" Loki said.

"I don't know how to describe it." Thor opened and closed his hand. It was stiff and slow to respond. "I can feel the marks pulsing. When we teleported, it felt like I was being ripped apart."

"Or like something was trying to keep you there?" Loki said.

Thor met his brother's eyes, asking questions with his own, but Loki's face was carefully wiped of emotion. There was a long stretch of silence that gave Thor the feeling his brother wasn't disclosing everything he knew. "What do you think it means?"

Loki's hand went momentarily to his own shoulder, then fell away. "A minor miscalculation." He sounded distracted, lost in thought. "Forgive me. I did not realize the teleportation would have that much of an effect on you."

"It was but a moment of weakness. Nothing you should apologize for."

"Now there's a pretty lie. I suppose you'll tell me next you're perfectly fit to wage battle against a master sorcerer." With a heavy sigh, Loki got to his feet and brushed grass off his clothing.

Thor did not join him. A wave of dizziness made him want to lie back down on the ground and sleep for days, and he had to fight to snap out of it. No doubt it was the tracker's rune working against his strength. Eventually the horizon leveled out, and he squinted in the late afternoon sunlight to make out details of their surroundings.

They were in a courtyard lined with wood-paneled buildings and great oak trees that dripped with moss. He could see the spires of a cathedral in the distance. There was no one in sight, but he could hear voices and music nearby. Drums and a swell of brass instruments. There was a briny smell in the air, as well as other aromas. Some were more pleasant than others. Food, poor drainage, moist earth, warm bodies.

"Where are we?" Thor asked as he tried to stand. He was glad his brother was looking off in the other direction. Loki did not need to know the extent to which Thor was struggling.

"The southern coastline of North America," Loki replied, his tone flat. "The city is called New Orleans."

The name struck Thor as familiar. "I think I came here with the tracker when we were searching for you. It looks different in daylight."

Loki didn't respond. He had turned away and placed his hands into his coat pockets, which seemed odd considering the much warmer temperature of this city compared to Oslo. His posture was peculiar, one shoulder held higher than the other.

Yet again, Thor wished he could read his brother's mind. Loki was more upset by what had happened than he was letting on.

"I promise I'm fine," Thor said. "I'm not lying to you. It's obvious I do not have possession of my full strength, but we expected this, remember? We planned for it. We set a trap, lure the tracker here, and finish him together. All right?"

Loki gazed out ahead of him, only a sliver of his profile visible. He seemed to waver in place, caught between decision and indecision. It looked like he wanted to be a million miles away from here.

When he finally turned around, he offered Thor something that resembled a smile—but it was so thin, it barely registered as such. "Of course," he lied.

* * *

Loki led the way through the streets of New Orleans without looking back to see if his brother was keeping up.

He was having an increasingly difficult time hiding his agitation. His jaw was held tense, and his mouth had pressed into a grim line. People moved out of his way as he approached and stared after him when he passed. Not even the beggars with their hungry eyes and outstretched hands seemed willing to risk a confrontation with him.

The sun had moved behind the buildings and cast much of the city into shadow. The streets were not particularly crowded, but the many bars and restaurants in sight were packed with people. The smell of alcohol was heavy in the air.

Thor remembered what this area was like after dark—a veritable playground for those desiring to cast their inhibitions aside. It made him wonder why Loki had chosen to bring them here of all places? In Oslo, he had said he needed a location with certain energies to aid him in binding the tracker's magic, but surely he didn't plan to do so amongst so many people.

"Where are we going?" Thor had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of street traffic and music.

Loki didn't acknowledge the question, even after it was repeated. Losing patience, Thor reached to grab hold of his brother's arm. Loki's skin was warm and slightly damp from the humidity. He had already taken off his coat and hidden it away in the interdimensional pocket he used for storage. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows.

Abruptly, Loki turned and all but shouted a reply. "Can't you give me a moment to think? I'm not ready."

The intensity of his response surprised Thor. His brother was more troubled than he'd realized. "Ready for what?"

But Loki either wasn't listening or didn't care to offer a response. He twisted his arm out of Thor's grasp and marched forward without him. Thor was left with no other option but to follow.

They stepped over uneven pavement and puddles of questionable liquid. Though it was still daylight, the streets ahead of them were already lit by flashing neon lights. Bars, tattoo parlors, food stands, and novelty stores. This area of the city was filthy yet also had a certain appeal. It was the type of place Thor might have enjoyed coming to with his friends in more carefree days, but his mind was too uneasy to find interest in it now.

Loki eventually chose a bar as his destination, and as Thor followed him through the entrance, he thought he might finally understand what was happening.

Inside, they found barely-contained chaos. Loud music blaring from a jukebox, even louder décor in the form of sports memorabilia, and a crowd gearing up for a night of drinking. Loki made a beeline to the bartender and called out an order over the noise.

Thor leaned against the sticky bar, his eyes on his brother's face in a futile attempt to interpret his mood. He said nothing as the bartender lined up a pair of glasses in front of them and filled both with a generous serving of liquor. Loki drank one down, set the empty glass on the bar, and immediately reached for the other.

"Feel better?" Thor asked.

"Not remotely." Loki tossed the second shot back and signaled to the bartender for another round. He placed a few bills of what was most likely fake currency on the bar beside the empty glasses. "Though after another dozen or so of these, who knows?"

Thor had to suppress the temptation to tell his brother to slow down. Loki had never been a heavy drinker, always preferring to maintain control over himself and whatever circumstances he'd found himself in. It was a rare occurrence to see him intoxicated. This was simply not something he often sought out, so to hear him talk in such a way was unsettling. All the same, Thor would rather his brother do this in front of him than sneak off on his own, like he'd done in New York City. At least here, he could keep an eye on him.

"You think we're going to lose this fight," Thor said. "Is that it?"

Loki waited until the bartender finished pouring another pair of shots before he replied. He stared down at the glasses but didn't immediately reach for them. "I didn't say that."

"Do you want to change the plan?"

"No. I just. . . ." Loki looked around at all the lights and people, seeming unusually wistful for something Thor had always assumed he found distasteful. "Can't we have one last moment of peace before everything goes to Hel?"

Thor's brows pulled together in confusion. "You call this peaceful? I can barely hear myself think in here."

"Exactly."

The way Loki said it—with desperation creeping along the edge of the word—tugged at Thor's heart. He hadn't seen Loki this upset and unfocused since they were back in New York. It felt like all the progress they'd made since then was in question.

"So that's why you keep choosing to lose yourself in these loud cities and bars that seem so unlike you," Thor said. "As a distraction."

Loki handed a shot to Thor and took the other for himself. "Silence and reflection are overrated."

They lifted their glasses and drank together. Loki finished his in a single swallow while Thor took only a sip and set it aside. The strength of the alcohol was nothing compared to what could be found in Asgard. The liquid barely burned the back of his throat. It would take much more than that to have any effect on him, but unlike Loki, Thor did not have much interest in feeling anything. He was dizzy enough on his own.

Thor slung an arm around his brother's shoulders and tugged him close, somewhat surprised when Loki complied without argument. He even leaned into the embrace and closed his eyes like he found comfort in it. However, he did not extend his own arms to return the gesture. Unconsciously, they swayed to the music, out of time with the beat.

Thor pressed his face into the crook of his brother's neck. Holding Loki like this made him feel so much better. His head cleared, and the pain in his arm was easier to ignore. "Are you going to tell me what actually has you upset, or am I left to guess?"

There was a long pause that inspired Thor's arm to tighten around his brother. He could feel Loki trembling.

"I already told you," Loki said, his tone brittle. "I'm not ready. I feel like we've run out of time, and we barely had any to begin with."

So he really did think they were going to lose. Or worse.

But that wasn't the case. Thor knew the tracker's cowardice well enough to feel confident in their chances for victory. Robbed of his ability to use magic, he would have no defenses left to him.

"We have millennia still ahead of us," Thor said. "I would not lead you into a battle I thought might be your last."

"You idiot," Loki said. "You think I'm worried about myself? I'm not the one who was rendered unconscious by a simple teleportation spell."

It was a legitimate concern, but Thor could not help but smile. Not so long ago, it had felt like Loki could have cared less if Thor lived or died. "I have no plans to see Valhalla anytime soon. But if you aren't yet ready to let go of this day, then let us make the most of it while we can. Come on."

Loki pulled away from the embrace and blinked up at him in inquiry.

Thor jerked his chin in the direction of the door. "Let's go see what this city is about."

* * *

They exited the bar hand in hand, with Loki leading and Thor trailing after, wearing a patiently indulgent smile. It had grown darker, enough that the florescent lights now glowed in the shadows. The city was coming alive.

The street had been closed off to vehicles, and pedestrians walked freely along the sidewalks and road. The people here were unlike anyone Thor had encountered elsewhere in his travels. It was as though everyone came here to pretend to be someone else. Some were barely dressed, while others wore costumes or cheap, plastic beads around their necks. The same beads were draped over the metal trellises of second-floor balconies above them.

There were street performers battling for the attention and money of passersby, peddlers selling dubious wares, political protesters, tourists, and policemen keeping a wary eye on everything. Down the road, someone was yelling about the end of the world, but no one paid the old woman any mind.

"Look there," Loki said, pointing ahead of them.

Thor squinted in the direction his brother indicated, but his eyesight was poor, thanks to the tracker's rune. When he finally managed to focus, he spotted a familiar suit of armor. Flamboyant red and gold, though perhaps not the same quality of metal he remembered. It was the man in the suit of iron they had briefly met during their encounter with SHIELD, but upon closer inspection, Thor realized it was only an impersonator. A mortal dressed in a costume made of plastic. He was taking pictures with anyone who asked.

Loki flashed his brother a mischievous grin—one that hadn't been seen anywhere near his face in more than a year—and pulled Thor in the Iron Man's direction.

Realizing what his brother meant to do, Thor groaned but also found himself laughing. He loved seeing hints of the playful Loki he remembered from the past.

Loki paid the mortal for a picture, threw one arm around his neck and the other around Thor's. Together they posed for a picture and soon afterward, were gifted with a small rectangular card bearing a slowly developing image. It was so primitive that Loki became fascinated by it. When asked about the technology, the mortal called it a polaroid.

"We should mail this to SHIELD," Loki said as he watched the picture appear.

He passed it over to Thor, who grinned at how ridiculous the three of them looked. "No. This one is mine." He started to slip the picture into his back pocket.

"Excuse me. I never said you could have that."

When Loki made a grab for it, Thor caught his brother's arm and pulled him close. There was a brief but playful battle for control that ended in them kissing right there in the middle of the street. They smiled against each other's lips as Loki dug around in Thor's back pockets. Once he retrieved the picture, Loki darted under his brother's arm and free from his grasp. With his prized picture in hand, he smirked back at Thor and sauntered off.

Thor's heart felt incredibly full as he followed. He finally had his brother back. _All_ of him.

They traveled from bar to bar, each one livelier and more questionable than the last, and though Loki kept ordering shots for himself, Thor refrained.

He had no qualms about his brother indulging, just so long as he was there to protect him from any consequences. The more Loki drank, the more he laughed and allowed himself to enjoy the moment. Gone was any trace of whatever had worried him before.

"Here, drink this," Loki said after one particular visit to the bartender. He handed Thor a large plastic cup filled with something colored an unnatural shade of florescent green. "It's called a Hand Grenade. Trust me. It's delicious."

Thor should have known better. Anytime Loki uttered the words "trust" and "me" in succession, it was wise to do nothing of the sort. But the city had also gotten into Thor's bones and done away with his better judgment. Surely Midgardian alcohol couldn't do him any harm.

He took a drink and a moment later, had to fight not to spit it out onto the floor. It was by far the most concentrated amount of sugar he'd ever encountered—so syrupy, in fact, that it was shocking to think it was still in liquid form.

It was almost impossible to swallow down the mouthful, especially with Loki watching and laughing at him, but eventually Thor managed it. "That is _repulsive_ ," he sputtered when he was able. But then he was laughing as well and even took another drink just to convince himself that yes, it truly was the most disgusting thing he'd ever tasted. "Why would anyone think this a good idea?"

"I rather think that the point," Loki said. "Not to think at all."

Grinning, Thor set the monstrosity of a beverage aside and hooked an arm around his brother's waist. There was a live blues band playing a set in the bar—seasoned musicians who looked like they'd seen a thing or two in their time. No one batted an eyelash when he pulled Loki's body possessively against his own. As they swayed to the music, Thor's hands went to his brother's ass and slid into his pockets. Loki felt amazing. Hard muscle that was so good to squeeze and knead. Thor's mind filled with images of stripping his brother naked and filling him up.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Loki said as his brother continued to invade his back pockets. "That is my picture."

"Correction." Thor claimed his prize and held the polaroid up, captured between two fingers. "It _was_ yours." He laughed and held it out of reach when Loki grabbed for it.

By the time they left the bar, night had fallen, and the number of people milling about had multiplied tenfold. The brothers' mood had shifted considerably. Thor was so hard, he kept having to pause and adjust himself, and the way Loki flirted and rubbed up against him did not help. Thor badly wanted to take him somewhere private and have his way with him. They had been interrupted in Oslo, and his need was growing exponentially with every second that passed.

Loki seemed well aware of this. He stopped at a brightly lit storefront that was protected by a shield of filmy glass, and he bought a tube of something from the vendor. While the woman rang up their order, Loki pressed in close to his brother, chest to chest. His chin was tilted upward, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he fondled Thor through his pants.

It was thrilling to be touched in the middle of so many people, like Loki was challenging his brother to ravish him right there in front of everyone. "What is that you're buying?" Thor asked. His eyes drifted shut, and he hissed as Loki's fingernails scraped gently across the denim of his jeans.

Loki's smile spread wider as he drank in the sight of his brother's reaction. "They call it lubricant. You'd think they'd come up with a less industrial term. For the longest time, I thought it was meant for machinery."

After Loki claimed his purchase and walked off, Thor was left staring at his back, hopelessly confused and more than a little frustrated. If he didn't do something soon, his zipper was going to split apart. "You need to lubricate something?" he called out.

"Honey, don't we all?" said a passing man.

Thor followed Loki to another building that had blacked out windows but graphic pictures displayed by the door to boast what was offered inside. It was a strip club, and the air inside was filled with Nine Inch Nails and cigarette smoke. There were women on stage wearing sequins on their nipples and very little else, writhing to the heavy beat of the music, but Thor found his attention instead drawn to the sway of his brother's hips. This was not helping his frustration.

Loki had become a different person right before his eyes. He wasn't particularly drunk, but gone was any hint of self-consciousness that might have limited him in the past. His smiles came easier. More daring and roguish. He moved with calm, self-assurance and did things he normally wouldn't. It was sexy as hell, and Thor was not the only one who took notice. More than once, he had to stare down anyone who had the audacity to think they had a chance.

They briefly considered the show on stage before Loki touched Thor's arm and gestured in the direction of the bar. There, he spoke to the bartender in a silken voice, eyeing her up and down as he placed money on the countertop between them. A blush came to stain her cheeks, and she appeared somewhat surprised as she set about making him a drink, as if it wasn't every day that a man succeeded in catching her attention.

Thor came up behind him. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"Well, that depends," Loki said, turning to lean backwards against the bar. "Is it working?"

Gods, he was beautiful. Absolutely striking with his pale skin glowing in the low light and colors dancing in his eyes.

"Why did you bring us here?" Thor leaned in close as he said it, a hand coming to rest on the bar beside Loki's waist. "You know I don't have eyes for anyone else."

The bartender returned with Loki's drink, and when she took in Thor's appearance, along with the candidness of their body language, her blush deepened. She left them to it, wearing a knowing smirk as she cast a backwards glance in their direction.

Loki plucked a cherry out of his drink. "Because they have private rooms. Unless you want to fuck me right here on the bar." Loki bit the juicy red fruit off the stem. "I won't stop you."

They made it as far as the back hallway, where they found an alcove hidden from view. There were likely security cameras aimed in their direction, spying on their every move. Someone could catch them there at any moment, but Thor didn't care. He pulled Loki flush against him, and they kissed each other with such hunger, they could scarcely draw in breath.

Loki tasted sweet, his tongue cool from the ice in his drink. Thor wanted to devour his brother's cock next, but it was Loki who kneeled first. With his eyes cast flirtatiously upward, he mouthed the head of Thor's cock through his pants while he unfastened them. Together, they tugged fabric out of the way, and then came the feel of that cool, clever tongue all over him. Loki licked a long stripe up the underside and ended the journey with the most devious smile Thor had ever seen.

Thor put his hands flat against the wall and spoke an affirmation. The beat of the music from the main hall vibrated through his arms and down into his body.

Loki sucked him off like they were alone—eyes closed, lost in sensation—but they were no such thing. People passed through the hallway nearby, but no one had yet caught them. It added a sense of danger to the encounter that was exhilarating. Thor loved every second.

He dropped a hand to Loki's hair. Fingers slid through the silken black strands and tightened, urging his brother to take him deeper. Thor's hips rocked, inching forward bit by bit until Loki was forced to open up his throat.

Thor fucked his brother's mouth with all the restraint he could muster until his thighs were shaking with need. He needed to be inside him now. "Up," he said, pulling at Loki's hair to guide him.

He was pleased to find Loki already had his own cock in hand and had been stroking himself at the same time he was tending to Thor. Loki's hands were wet with the lubricant he'd purchased, and he smeared it all over the length of Thor's shaft.

_So that's what it's for_ , Thor thought. He turned Loki around with impatient hands and made him face the wall. The pert cheeks of his ass peeked out from beneath the line of his shirt.

Thor nudged Loki's pants lower and soon had two slicked-up fingers buried deep, spreading around a generous helping of lubricant that would hopefully make this easier. Thor did not have the patience to take it slow. He was dizzy with want and used a third finger on Loki only briefly before he withdrew. Then he guided the head of his cock into place.

"You like this, don't you?" Thor whispered against the fragrant skin by his brother's ear. "Being wicked. Being seen doing it." He pushed his hips forward, thrusting against Loki's ass even before he was inside.

Loki's legs trembled from the building pressure against his entrance. He tensed and sighed as Thor penetrated him. " _Yes_."

They coupled there against the wall, Loki's cock sliding in his brother's hand, Thor driving deeper than he had ever thought possible. All his years of fantasizing about Loki had never been this good. The sounds they made were carried away by the music, but the marks they left on each other's bodies were more lasting. Bruises peppered Loki's neck, brought to the surface by Thor's mouth, and red marks the exact shape and size of Loki's fingers appeared on Thor's forearms.

By the time they finished, they'd left a crack in the wall and shattered tiles at their feet. Thor guided his brother's head to the side so they could kiss while he coaxed Loki through the final pulses of his climax. Thor had just left his own finish deep inside, and it trickled out from where they were joined.

Afterward—when Thor was blissfully sagging against the wall and trying to remember how a zipper worked—Loki held up the polaroid, which he'd stolen from Thor's pocket at some point.

"Mine," Loki said.

Thor laughed and let him have it.

* * *

Sometime later, when they'd exhausted themselves, they took to the streets again. Loki became quiet, subdued. He was receptive to his brother's affection but was otherwise lost in a world of his own. It appeared all the troubles he had left behind in that first bar were catching up to him.

Thor was not feeling his best either. Their night of adventuring had burned through what little energy he possessed, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut several times to clear his vision. Perhaps it had not been the wisest thing to do at such a time, but he could not bring himself to regret it. They had both needed that release.

They walked without aim until they came to a quieter part of the city, far from the debauchery of Bourbon Street. It was getting late. The shops were mostly closed now, the windows dark and empty.

"I've never seen you like that before," Thor said. "You've never let me."

"There's much about me you don't know," Loki replied. Pausing at a street corner, he hugged himself and gazed out at the lights. The gulf breeze blew his hair away from his face. "I suppose we should get on with it. If we're going to do this, we should get far away from the city. We'll have to drive."

"Only if you're ready," Thor said.

Loki's gaze fell to the road before them. "I'm sorry I've made such a mess of things," he said softly.

"What do you mean? This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is. I'm the one who lost his mind and fled." His smile was bittersweet. "Sometimes I wish you hadn't found me. Other times, I'm so grateful. I like to think I'm good at being alone, but I'm not. Thank you for finding me and for not listening when I told you to leave. I needed you more than you know. You know I love you, don't you?"

He wouldn't meet Thor's eyes as he spoke, but that didn't make the question any less meaningful.

Thor reached out to tuck his brother's hair behind his ear. Now _he_ was the one wishing they had more time. "It sounds like you're trying to tell me goodbye."

Loki shook his head. "No. I'm not going anywhere." He meant it.

And yet . . . something didn't feel right. Thor couldn't put his finger on it. Loki looked scared out of his mind yet peaceful at the same time. Like he'd given himself over to his fate.

"Brother, what are you not telling me?" Thor asked.

Loki smiled rather wistfully. Without answering, he turned and offered his hand in silent invitation.

* * *

To be concluded


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap: The tracker is still after Thor and Loki. The last time Thor touched Mjolnir, he was attacked by a curse that the tracker put on his weapon. Five runes appeared on his arm that attacked his physical body and senses. One rune was half formed, which affected his sight but did not fully blind him. Loki removed two other runes completely, which affected Thor’s lungs and hearing. Loki was unable to remove the last two runes, which are still affecting Thor’s ability to speak and his strength.
> 
> This means as of the start of this chapter, Thor still has two (and a half) runes on his arm, which have limited his eyesight, speech, and strength.
> 
> When they teleported to New Orleans, it knocked Thor unconscious for ten minutes, and Loki could not wake him up. Thor felt like something was trying to hold him to the other side and keep him there. This realization caused Loki a great deal of distress, though he would not share the reason why with Thor.
> 
> Together, they have made a plan to set a trap for the tracker, using Mjölnir to draw him to their location, and then kill him. But Loki is acting strange. Like he has a secret. As they depart for their final battle, Loki is subdued but clearly upset by whatever he thinks is about to happen.

(New Orleans)

They stole a car from a used dealership on the outskirts of town—an old Challenger decades past its prime, with cracked leather seats and hopelessly kinked thread pulling free from the seams. Loki fiddled with the radio dial until he found a station playing old regional classics. The crackle of low fidelity filled the small space.

Thor had insisted upon driving if only to prove himself capable of it in spite of everything the tracker had done to weaken him. Loki sat beside him in the passenger seat, uncharacteristically silent for someone normally so critical of his brother’s piloting skills. He had rolled his window down and was quietly engaged in watching his outstretched hand float along in the breeze. His face was lit up only occasionally by passing streetlights.

To anyone who didn’t know him, he might appear relaxed and calm, but Thor knew better. He put a hand on his brother’s thigh and squeezed. “This vehicle feels ready to shake apart.” The steering wheel shuddered and quaked beneath Thor’s hands.

“You’re going too fast,” Loki said, his tone as vacant as his expression.

Thor considered the speedometer needle, which was straining past the 120 marker, and let off the gas. Eventually the steering wheel stopped shaking, but now they were going pitifully slow. How did Midgardians get anywhere in such leisurely fashion? “Does it matter where we stop?”

“No. The veil is thin around the entire region.”

“Are you certain you’re sober enough for this?” Thor looked over to study his brother’s defeated posture.

Loki’s answering smile was tight, though not without humor. “In spite of my best efforts, yes.”

Thor kept driving until he was convinced there were no mortals in the vicinity. There were marshes on either side of the road, and he stopped the car when they came across a drier span of land that might have once been used for farming. The grass was reasonably well-tended, and the field was lit by the bright moon overhead.

The night was alive with the sound of insects. It felt like the shadows of the trees in the distance were inching closer to them. Thor was beginning to understand why Loki found interest in this place. It felt ancient and reminded him of the feeling he got the few times he’d gone in search of Loki in the restricted parts of Asgard’s library. There was old magic here, and it was neither good nor evil.

He cut the engine and looked to his brother.

“Have you summoned Mjölnir?” Loki said.

“A while ago. It will take time to reach us from across Midgard’s ocean.”

“Good. Let me know when she’s close.”

Gone was the dread from Loki’s eyes, replaced with a steely look of determination. He exited the vehicle and calmly strode out into the field.

Thor slammed the door of the Challenger. “Brother?”

As Loki turned, his armor shimmered and materialized out of thin air. Moonlight glinted off the horns of his helmet, turning gold to silver. The ends of his hair flipped out from beneath the helmet, and his posture was perfectly disciplined. He looked dangerous and every bit a Prince of Asgard.

The last time Thor had seen his brother in armor was before his coronation, and it filled him with nostalgia. But it also made him painfully aware of the fact that he was not in armor himself, nor was he going to be able to use his weapon to call upon it. The last time he had placed a hand on Mjölnir, it had almost killed him. It would be unwise to do so again.

“We’re going to make it through this,” Thor called from where he stood at the edge of the field. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Loki said. The reply felt strangely empty, like an incomplete thought. He hovered there for a moment as if wanting to say more but then seemed to think better of it.

Thor watched as Loki paced the area, muttering under his breath every so often. He went a long way out, drawing a huge perimeter. Thor knew little about magic, but he did recognize that Loki was creating a type of cage. It was a wide net meant to contain the tracker but also large enough for any battle that might take place afterward.

“A bit crude, to be sure,” Loki said when he was finished. “Not my usual brand of magic.”

“It will bind the tracker?”

“His magic, yes, though not his body. If he managed to repair his rifle or find another weapon, we will also have that to contend with. Mjölnir?”

Thor turned his attention to the horizon. “She’s close. Not long now.”

Loki sighed. “Follow me.”

They walked out into the field until they were in the middle of the perimeter.

“I’m going to close the circle,” Loki said. “Keep in mind this will also dampen my own magic. From here on out, this will be a physical fight alone.”

“You’ll hear no argument from me.”

Thor was getting excited, as he always did before battle. Though he knew his physical body was still weakened from whatever curse the tracker had put on him, he was confident they would prevail. Still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut every time he glanced in Loki’s direction. His little brother wasn’t telling him everything, and that was never a good sign. Thor felt nothing when the circle closed, but Loki shut his eyes and pressed his lips together like he was experiencing something unpleasant. He looked pensive but not overly concerned with Mjölnir’s approach.

In time, she came streaking through the dark clouds overhead, and Thor felt his very blood sing. His hand had been empty far too long.

“Don’t touch it,” Loki said. “Let it land within the circle—and prepare yourself in case _he_ follows.”

It infuriated Thor not to be able to lay claim to his weapon, but he did as his brother suggested and let Mjölnir sail straight past him. She landed with a great crash into the rich, fertile soil, kicking up waves of black earth high into the air. Both brothers crouched down, ready to respond to an attack that might come at them from any angle. After all, the tracker had followed Mjölnir the last time Thor summoned her. It was how he’d found the brothers in Barcelona.

But nothing happened. Only the sound of nighttime insects answered them.

“Coward,” Thor muttered, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his neck. “This is like him, though. He will only strike when he takes his prey by surprise. He must know we’re expecting him.”

“What did you think would happen?” Loki said. “He’s not a coward, Thor. He knows his limitations and doesn’t care to walk into an obvious trap. A lesson I daresay you could learn. I suggest we move on to our backup plan before he thinks up one of his own.”

Thor tensed but nodded. He didn’t like the backup plan because it brought magic back into play. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“I suspected he wouldn’t fall for it, though it was worth a try. I don’t like the alternative any more than you do.” With that, Loki strode out into the field with his cape whipping behind him, blown by the strong wind from the south. There, he set about destroying his own work by tearing down the wards. One by one, they let out a dull thunderclap as they failed.

The backup plan required Loki to be able to tap into his magic, which was why the wards had to be removed, but without them in place, the tracker would have magic at his disposal as well. The brothers would have to face him with his full bag of tricks, except for perhaps the rifle that Loki had destroyed in Barcelona.

“Give me your arm,” Loki said when he returned. Another strong gust of wind swept through the field, rustling the trees in the distance. “This will not be pleasant.”

“What do you mean to do exactly?” Thor asked. “You said you could bring the tracker here if Mjölnir failed to draw him out of hiding. But how?” He offered his injured arm and watched as Loki put his palms flat over the ruined markings of the tracker’s curse.

“I’m not sure how aware you are of what he’s done to you,” Loki said. “Up until now, I’ve been dampening some of the effects of these marks to conceal you from his gaze—but the tracker is connected to you, Thor. Deeply. His magic has fused with your skin, like little tendrils that tie you together. And because that connection runs two ways, I plan to latch onto him through it, and drag him through the veil myself.”

“Why did you not do that to begin with?” Thor asked, impatient for battle.

There was a long pause.

Long enough that other questions began to form in Thor’s mind.

“I am sorry, brother,” Loki said at last. “This is not going to turn out the way you think it is, but I promise you will be all right.”

Thor lifted an eyebrow. “Just me? What about you?”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said again. “I would have told you the truth earlier, but I thought he might hear.”

And then the pain began.

Whatever Loki was doing to pull the tracker to their location meant an incredible amount of physical discomfort for Thor. It was a familiar tearing sensation—the same painful feeling Thor had experienced when they’d teleported from Oslo to New Orleans, like something had its claws in him. Whoever was on the other end was not pleased that the connection had been turned against him. The tracker pulled back _hard_. The pain spread up Thor’s arm and straight into his mind, and he almost went down to his knees.

“He’s strong,” Loki said, his teeth glinting white in the darkness.

“You’re stronger.” Thor put his other hand on top of his brother’s. “Do it.”

Loki closed his eyes, bowed his head, and let out a great cry that crescendoed into a flash of light and knocked them both off their feet. An energy surge went out in a ring across the field, bending the grass and knocking leaves and dead branches off trees in the distance. Birds took flight all around them.

And there, sprawled in the center of a bald place in the grass, was the tracker.

He was panting, his expression hidden by shadow, and little wisps of smoke rose off his clothing. The smell of sulfur bit the air.

Only it didn’t matter that the brothers had finally succeeded in luring him here. The second Loki pulled him through the veil, the light winked out in his green eyes, and he dropped to the grass like a lifeless doll tossed aside by a careless child. Whatever he had done to pull the tracker here had cost Loki so much energy that he could no longer stand, let alone fight.

Thor could not go to his aid, for the tracker’s appearance had affected him as well. A cruel whisper spilled from his lips and moved like a snake past Thor’s ears. The incantation wrapped around Thor’s injured arm, clamped down on it like a set of razer-sharp fangs, and the two runes that Loki had spent hours and hours deconstructing flared back to life. They glowed red as flame and locked into place, the shattered pieces fusing back together. The runes robbed Thor of his strength and ability to speak all over again, just as they had in Barcelona, and there was still the half-formed rune that affected his eyesight as well. But thankfully, the two runes that Loki had previously destroyed altogether—the one that had almost killed Thor by preventing him from breathing and the rune that had deafened him—remained gone and did not return.

All the same, Thor collapsed to the ground—his vision blurring worse than before, the strength gone from his body, his tongue silenced—and he watched with half-blinded eyes as the tracker got to his feet and casually brushed a speck of dirt off his shirt.

“Well, that was very rude,” the tracker said.

Loki’s crumpled body lay only a few steps in front of the tracker, blood streaming from his nose. Though his eyelashes fluttered and opened, he didn’t seem like he was able to move. His face was gray as ash.

“I knew you were suicidal,” the tracker said, prowling around him, “but not so much that you would pick a direct fight with me. Him maybe.” He pointed at Thor but continued speaking to Loki. “But I expected more prudence from you.”

“I do love . . . a good surprise,” Loki mumbled into the dirt. Then his lips spread apart into a breathless chuckle.

Thor wondered if he’d lost his mind. How could Loki laugh at a time like this?

As Thor tried and failed to get to his feet, the tracker took his time lighting a cigarette. His silhouette was black and menacing against the moonlit sky, his shadow stretching far in front of him. “You know, I almost had you in Oslo. I might have let you go in peace if you hadn’t made it personal. It’s unwise to make an enemy of Asgard, I know, but my client has assured me Odin’s reign is short-lived. He’s the one that wants you eliminated.” He blew smoke into the sky, then plucked a bit of stray tobacco from his tongue. “Did you really think there would be a contest here?”

The tracker had a new weapon strapped to his back but hadn’t felt the need to draw it. The smug bastard. This weapon was fashioned out of a shotgun with half the barrel sawed off. Thor had seen it before when they had faced more hostile places in their hunt for Loki, but the tracker preferred the accuracy of the rifle. The shotgun was meant to deliver a wide spray of death. The runes on the barrel glowed red like the ones on Thor’s arm. Taking the shotgun off his back, the tracker strolled over to Loki and aimed it at his head.

_No_ , Thor wanted to scream, but his tongue would not obey.

“You’re certainly resourceful,” the tracker said. “I’ll give you that. Which is, of course, why you have to die. I knew you were going to figure out the connection worked two ways, and I can’t risk you knowing where I go when I meet with my client about the Tesseract.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing.” Loki managed to prop himself up on one elbow, and he stared calmly into the barrel of the shotgun. “I am indeed resourceful. But here’s the part you got wrong.”

The tracker sneered but waited to hear the rest before pulling the trigger.

“You hurt my brother,” Loki said, blood shining on his teeth. “That was your mistake. Had you not done that, I might have let you get away with the rest.”

The tracker laughed. “And what are you going to do about it? You’re staring your own death in the face.”

“Don’t bore me,” Loki said. “I’ve been doing that for months. Don’t you know there are far worse things to fear than death?” He lifted a hand and flicked something small and metal in the tracker’s direction.

It was a golden Asgardian coin engraved with the queen’s profile, enchanted with a summoning spell and gifted to her sons by Frigga herself, and it flipped and spun in the air before the tracker’s eyes.

Before it hit the ground, the sky was filled with the blinding light of the Bifröst and the thundering sound of eight horse hooves striking the earth.

* * *

**(New Orleans – flashback to earlier that day)**

_"Where are we?" Thor asked as he struggled to his feet._

_"The southern coastline of North America," Loki replied, his tone flat. "The city is called New Orleans."_

_"I think I came here with the tracker when we were searching for you. It looks different in daylight."_

_Loki didn’t respond. He had turned away from his brother, and though his green eyes stared straight ahead, he saw nothing but his own thoughts swirling before him._

_His mind was reeling. His emotions, compromised._

_They had only just arrived in New Orleans ten minutes ago, and Loki had spent the majority of that time in a near-panic, trying to wake his brother up. The teleportation had knocked Thor unconscious and frightened the pride right out of Loki. At that moment, he knew they were going to lose whatever fight they picked with the tracker. He was far too patient and clever. Frighteningly so._

_Thor could not teleport again. They could try running to another city on foot, but the tracker would corner them eventually. He was already latching on, and Thor, bless him, was displaying his normal degree of overconfidence. It was up to Loki to anticipate just how wrong a battle with the tracker could go and arrange for a failsafe, just like he had a year ago when he’d gone with Thor on that ill-fated journey to Jötunheim._

_But the very thought made Loki want to drop to his knees and be sick because there was really only one option left to them, and he would rather do_ anything _except that._

_Of course, it would come down to this._

_Loki did not fear his own death, but in his eyes, this was a fate far worse. Oh, how he wanted to run. He did not want to care about Thor’s fate. He had thought he was beyond this kind of sentiment when Thor found him. Seemingly not—because it was for the love of his brother alone that made Loki reach into the pocket of his coat._

_He found it there—the coin that Thor had slipped into his pocket back in the New York apartment, when he’d been preparing Loki for a journey without him. Right before they kissed for the first time. It was the same coin Thor had used to summon Frigga, but this was not her mess to clean up. No, there was one other who hopefully felt some responsibility for the tracker chasing them to begin with._

_And Loki_ hated _him._

_His hand closed around the coin, and he felt something in his mind snap. He wanted to cry. To scream. To run. How dare Thor make Loki care this much._ How dare he.

_He spoke in a whisper so that Thor would not overhear. His ties to the tracker ran deep, and Loki was half-convinced the monster could hear every word that his brother spoke or heard._

_“Father,” Loki whispered. A name—no, an endearment—he never thought he’d speak again. “Thor is in danger and needs your help. Wait at the Bifröst for my summons.”_

* * *

When Odin All-Father appeared on the battlefield like a crack of lightning, sitting astride the mighty eight-legged Sleipnir, the tracker’s entire demeanor changed.

Gone was his smug self-assurance, replaced instead with the slack-jawed cowardice Thor always knew was at the very heart of him. He had never seen the whites of the tracker’s eyes before. There wasn’t even time to think about running.

With a wave of Gungnir, Odin mowed the tracker down, cutting his body in half at the waist with a deadly beam of golden light. There was a gurgling cry, the thud of body parts falling to the earth, then silence.

When the tracker bled out, his magic died along with his physical body. Thor let out a great gasp of relief when the runes on his arm shattered and dissipated into nothingness. His vision sharpened into focus, and strength returned to his limbs. “Father,” he said, now able to speak. He got to his feet, his legs still shaking beneath him.

Odin was dressed in full battle armor but removed his horned helmet after dismounting. His cold blue eye surveyed the condition of his sons briefly before he marched over to the tracker, looking every bit the part of an unforgiving king staring down a condemned war criminal. He reached into the empty space over the tracker’s dead body and plucked the Tesseract out of thin air. The tracker must have hidden it in an interdimensional pocket, the same way Loki often kept objects concealed from others.

The Tesseract floated between Odin’s hands, painting the battlefield electric blue as it spun in place.

A few steps away, Loki finally managed to get to his feet. His helmet had fallen away, and the light from the Tesseract made him look sickly. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and a look of barely-contained panic on his face.

“How did you know where to find us?” Thor asked.

“Your brother called out to me,” Odin said. There was an accusation in the words—because Thor _hadn’t_ called out, even in those last moments, when they were at the tracker’s mercy.

And then it hit him. Loki had planned this. He had known the tracker would overpower them but had lured him here anyway with the intention of delivering him straight to Odin. But in doing so, Loki had also given _himself_ to the very person he’d been running from for a year.

His behavior in New Orleans made more sense now. He hadn’t thought they were going to lose the battle with the tracker. He had _known_ they were going to win and would live to see tomorrow. But Loki had also thought that victory would end with him being dragged back to Asgard by Odin himself. He must have wanted one last adventure with Thor before he gave up that freedom forever.

What was it he had said earlier? _I’m not ready._

“Oh, Loki,” Thor said. “You should have told me.”

Though he did not fear his father, Thor was suddenly on edge, for it had occurred to him that the real battle was only just beginning—only this battle was not with the tracker but with the king of kings. Loki _did_ _not_ want to go back to Asgard, and Odin was about to take him there against his will. All the progress Thor had made with his brother might be lost soon after.

“Father, please,” Thor said. “He is not ready to return.”

Loki said nothing. Though his chin was held at a proud angle, he had his gaze fixed on the horizon, refusing to look at Odin.

“The only reason we ran from your command was to allow him adequate time to heal,” Thor lied. “Punish me for disobedience. Not him.”

Odin ignored him. His attention was still on the Tesseract, which floated between his hands. “I thought this well-hidden on Midgard, but it would seem I was mistaken.”

“He claimed he had another client,” Thor said, anger in every word. If there was anything he hated more than cowardice, it was disloyalty.

“The queen has informed me of his betrayal,” Odin said. “My sons, my mind is deeply troubled. There is an unseen force at work, and here I am, barely able to hold a conversation with my own children.” His eye focused on Loki. With a wave, the Tesseract floated over to him. “I trust you will be able to hide this? It will be safer on the move, though I plan to send out word that I have taken it to Asgard. If there is indeed another enemy out there, these false claims might draw them out of hiding. That leaves you both in the clear with the Tesseract under your protection.”

Thor did not understand. Odin was speaking as though he did not intend to force them to return to Asgard.

Loki looked like he was holding his breath. He did not reach out to claim the Tesseract, nor did he appear willing to trust what Odin was saying.

“Forgive me, my son,” Odin said to Loki. “In my haste to discover if you were dead or alive, I hired the tracker to find you, but making you feel hunted was never my intention. I thank you for calling me here to deal with this traitor personally. Too often I have sought to protect you when I should have trusted in your strength. I set the tracker after you because I was afraid, just as I was afraid to tell you the truth of your heritage. I feared losing my son—but I have lost you already, haven’t I?”

Loki just stared straight ahead, not even daring to blink.

Thor marveled at his father’s words. The last time he had spoken to Odin, his resolve to bring Loki back to Asgard was unwavering. Thor could feel his mother’s influence in the words his father spoke now.

“You are my son, Loki,” Odin said. “Not my prisoner. Not a war relic. Not the son of my enemy. You are _my son_. Asgard remains your home, and if you wish to return, Heimdall stands ready to answer your summons. I hope. . .” He turned with a sigh without finishing the thought.

He left his sons standing there as he strode out into the open field, Gungnir in hand. Sleipnir followed, tossing his great head back with a whinny that was carried away by the wind.

“Father?” Thor called out.

“I hope you will maintain correspondence with your mother,” Odin said. He came to a halt and turned to face them. “I have found her in tears every night since you left.”

That was the last thing he said before Heimdall opened the Bifröst and pulled the All-Father and his steed back into the heavens. After the dazzling rainbow of lights dimmed into nothing but memory, the brothers were left standing alone with the Tesseract still floating in the air before them.

Loki looked at Thor, his expression naked, a mix of fear and disbelief. “He let me go.”

“I suspect you have our mother to thank for that,” Thor said. “Loki, how could you not have told me what you were planning with the tracker? He almost killed you.”

“Don’t be angry with me,” Loki whispered, tears shining in his eyes.

Thor’s expression softened. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Loki had been willing to sacrifice his own freedom to make sure Thor lived to see another day. “That’s not what I’m feeling at all.”

He opened his arms, stepped forward, and hugged his brother with all the love in his heart.

* * *

Epilogue

**(New York – One Year Later)**

“Loki?” Thor called into the apartment. “Are you home?”

After a brief search of empty rooms, he found his brother hiding outside on the balcony, seated upon the cold concrete with one shoulder leaning against the railing. His eyes were red, but though he’d obviously been crying, his face was dry. For now, at least. The cat from the upstairs apartment was weaving around his legs, and Frigga’s letter lay on the ground beside him, crumpled from being handled so many times over the last year, under a variety of circumstances and emotions.

Thor tried not to panic.

Though this was nothing new, it was disheartening to witness. Loki had been doing so well for the last few weeks. He went longer and longer without these moments where it seemed like he couldn’t pick himself up, but every now and then. . . .

“Everything all right?” Thor asked.

Of course, Loki wasn’t all right. However, he answered the question with a curt nod and quietly folded up the letter. Thor knew then that it wasn’t the right time to push him. He had learned many months ago that Loki was more willing to talk when given adequate time and space. Perhaps later tonight.

They’d been living in New York City and allied with the Avengers for almost a year now, having earned back their trust by enduring a great deal of interrogation, along with their cooperation with the Tesseract. Once they’d joined in on a few key battles, Thor and Loki had become an essential part of the team.

Their home base was in New York City, where they had legally purchased the apartment they had once (as Coulson put it) “squatted” in. It had been Loki’s idea, one Thor did not immediately agree to. Not only did he feel somewhat suffocated by the memories of that place, but he thought Loki did as well.

“ _I felt it might be a compromise_ ,” Loki had told him at the time. “ _With Asgard, I mean. I've kept us hidden from Heimdall’s gaze, but at least this way . . . they, ah. . . know where to find us should we be needed. Also, I miss my cat_.”

Pepper Potts had given them the name of an excellent contractor, and they’d had the place completely gutted and remodeled to give them a fresh start. Thor had taken great pleasure in personally knocking the walls down. When they were done, the apartment was much more open and relaxing. Loki had chosen the furnishings himself and made it a place where he felt at peace.

If only they could have ripped off the damn balcony. Thor hated when his brother went out there, but he’d learned to trust him more.

Loki had undergone a journey of his own this year. A deeply personal one.

Though there were moments of happiness, particularly when exploring their newfound relationship, the more Loki let Thor into his heart, the more it was revealed how much hurt and bitterness resided there. Loki aimed much of it at his brother. Some of their arguments were almost enough to drive them apart for good. He had told Thor he wanted to kill him more times than he could count and had even attempted it once or twice. Loki raged at him. He cried in his arms. He confessed his hatred for himself and everything else in the Nine Realms.

Loki was a mess of warring emotions. On several occasions, Thor caught him reading Frigga’s letter and sobbing until his throat went hoarse. When they made love, sometimes it was achingly sweet, while others, Thor was left with marks on his body and wary eyes.

But little by little, much of the rage had drained out of Loki. He looked calmer and more centered these days. More like himself. However, he was still battling depression after having his identity stolen away from him two years ago.

Thor understood a bit more about depression now. Natasha Romanoff had helped him with that.

She had befriended Loki months ago and seemed to relate to him on a level Thor could not. Natasha taught Loki how to redirect his anger and quiet the monster inside when it wanted to hurt others, if only because _he_ was hurting. She had also nudged him in the direction of reconciliation, reminding him that forgiveness was something that should be granted for his own sake rather than for the sake of others. Loki had responded to that much better than Thor’s suggestion that he forgive their parents out of love.

“Brother,” Thor said, his tone soft. “You know we don’t have to do this today, right? I know we already decided, but it is not expected of you.”

Loki gazed out at the city for a long while. Then, after slowly getting to his feet and brushing off his hands and clothes, he said, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to talk me out of it.”

“Good thing you know better.” Thor smiled, but it felt hollow, even to him. He was worried. “You’re certain this is what you want?”

“What I _want_?” Turning his head to look at Thor at last, Loki laughed without humor. “Dearest brother, going back to _that place_ is the last thing I want.” He tightened his fist, Frigga’s letter crumpling between his fingers. “Though perhaps that is precisely why I should.”

* * *

The halls of Asgard’s palace were quiet and had been that way for the last two years. Gone was the laughter from the halls. The sons of Odin had taken it with them when they left.

Thor nodded to familiar faces as he walked the palace corridors and was aware of the whispers aimed at his back when he passed. He had entered the realm after calling out to Heimdall and had used a cloak to hide his identity during the journey through the city, so as not to draw mass attention to his return. But word had spread fast through the Realm Eternal, and by the time he had reached the golden palace, he was given a formal greeting by the Captain of the Guard and his men.

“The king and queen await your arrival in their personal quarters, my lord,” he had said, his arm held to his chest in a salute. “It is good to see you home once more.”

Though it was good to _be_ home, Thor still felt unsettled. He had two shadows instead of one while he walked to his parents’ living quarters.

The moment he set foot in the grand parlor, Frigga was on her feet and rushing over to kiss him. “Your last letter did not mention your visit,” she said, her smile radiant, even as she censured him. “Nor did it mention a great many other things.”

Thor laughed and embraced her. “If I chronicled every moment of my adventures on Midgard, the pages would fill Asgard’s library to overflowing. It is good to see you, mother.” He glanced up at the All-Father, who was standing by an open window that overlooked the realm and gazing back at his eldest son with a non-expression. “And you, father.”

“How is your brother?” Frigga asked. “I have wished with all my heart to receive word from him.”

Thor hesitated, unsure how to answer the question. “Loki is, um. . . .”

“I am well,” Loki said.

He appeared out of nowhere, standing just behind Thor, the shroud of invisibility falling away. He had hidden himself from sight ever since leaving the Bifröst Observatory under Heimdall’s steely gaze, claiming that just because he had agreed to see their parents didn’t mean he wanted to deal with everyone else’s scrutiny.

Thor couldn’t help but smile as he watched joy and relief transform his mother’s face. Even Odin stood a bit straighter, his lips parted in surprise, but his expression was otherwise impossible to read.

Loki’s glare softened into something more loving as his eyes shifted from Odin to Frigga. There was, however, still a considerable amount of guardedness in him. “Mother,” he said in quiet greeting and extended a hand.

Frigga moved slower this time, as if afraid he might vanish again without a trace. “Loki,” she said, tears glittering in her eyes as she went to embrace him. “My son, you are most welcome.”

Loki closed his eyes and held her for a long time. “I came here not to stay,” he said, “but to say some things to you both. May I do so without interruption?” When he opened his eyes to look at the All-Father again, the sudden hostility in Loki’s expression made it clear who his last question was aimed at.

“Speak, my son,” Odin said. “I am listening.”

Frigga drew back from the embrace and gripped Loki’s hands. “We both are.”

Thor stood still and silent, an observer only. Though he wanted desperately for his family to reconcile, he had come here in support of Loki alone and not as a mediator. Their agreement was that if this turned into a fight or if Odin gave any indication that he meant to keep Loki in Asgard against his will, they would leave at once. Thor could only pray it would not come to that, for it was doubtful his brother would ever willingly step foot in this realm again. This was Odin’s last chance.

“I wish to extend an apology to you,” Loki said. “I should not have left the way I did. It was cowardly of me.”

Frigga frowned and shook her head, but Loki held up a hand, indicating he wasn’t done speaking.

“Not in the way you might think,” he said. “It was not you I feared, but what I thought I might do out of anger. I was not myself. I think . . . I think I might have acted more destructively had I stayed, and perhaps in my own way, I was trying to protect you from that. What I want to say to you is that I am not the only one who has done wrong here. You have . . .” Loki trailed off abruptly, his composure beginning to break down.

It was then that Thor realized Loki was not going to be able to get this out. A shame. He had confessed it all to Thor several times, always spoken in fearful whispers in the middle of the night with tears streaming down his face.

“You made him feel like he wasn’t your son even before he learned the truth,” Thor said. “You should have told him from the beginning. In claiming you were only protecting him from the truth, you’ve instilled in him the belief that there is something inherently wrong with him. I could keep going, but judging from your expressions, I think you understand the rest. If it is true you see Loki as Odinson, then you both owe him an apology for not treating him as such.”

“I have already received one apology,” Loki said. “In the form of a letter, written by the queen’s hand.” He looked at the All-Father, lips pressed into a thin line, clearly waiting to be disappointed.

“You still think I have an ounce of pride in my possession,” Odin said, “having been left with nothing but regrets to ponder for the last two years? Loki, I have much to say to you that I failed to articulate when last we spoke in the Vault. We have never communicated well, you and I, but I hope you realize I have never meant you harm. If it is an apology you seek, then you have it. However, I feel I have much still to give you beyond that, should you consent to stay and listen.”

Loki released the breath he was holding, the sound of it like a dam of emotions breaking in his heart.

* * *

The brothers left the gilded halls many hours later, emotionally spent, with their throats hoarse from too much talking but their hearts more at peace than they’d been in two long years. Perhaps longer.

Not everything had been fixed between Loki and the king and queen, and Thor was still a bit cross with them himself. But they had _talked_ , and the evening hadn’t ended in bloodshed or the permanent dissolution of their family. It was progress neither brother had expected.

Loki was quiet as they left the palace, again choosing to clothe himself with invisibility until the moment when they stepped foot onto the Rainbow Bridge together. Then he appeared again, his expression wiped clean of almost all emotion. But then, Loki never could manage to conceal every hint of what he was feeling. Beneath the carefully constructed mask, he looked exhausted and eager to return to Midgard.

Hearing the crash of waves beneath them made Thor feel nostalgic. It did not seem that long ago that he and his little brother used to play games at the foot of this bridge before chasing each other back to the palace for supper. He thought he saw the ghosts of two young boys passing them by on the bridge now, laughing as they ran back towards the city.

He tried to imagine the two of them returning here again one day. Perhaps after the All-Father had passed on his mantle. The brothers could rule Asgard together as they were raised to.

“I hope you realize now Asgard will always be your home,” Thor said.

After a beat, Loki said, “Only when you are here with me, I think.”

Thor looked at him, silently asking for an explanation.

“I don’t claim to be Aesir or Jötunn,” Loki said. “Neither of those identities feel right. They never did. I don’t know who I am anymore, and it will take me time to rediscover that. But there are a few things I know for certain. I know that I am Loki, and I have a brother.” He smiled at Thor, who saw that color had finally returned to his little brother’s face. “And wherever he is, _that_ is my home.”

Together they went into the Observatory, though not with the intention of returning home, for in each other’s company, they had been there all along.

* * *

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter was a little rushed, I know, but it was important to me to finish this story, even though my brain was fighting me every step of the way. This is dedicated to everyone who has been so patient with me since the very first chapter. As most of you who follow me on tumblr know, I went through a huge life change while writing this story (surprise twins in my belly), and I have never once felt anything but love and support from my readers when I struggled so badly to find time to write. So thank you all for letting me share my imagination with you. ♥︎
> 
> And a very, very happy belated birthday to sheilatakesabow. My YOI buddy!! iluuuuu ♥︎♥︎♥︎


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